


Ascension

by funygirl38



Series: The Path [2]
Category: Loki - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Ireland, Romance, Tír na nÓg, Ásgarðr | Asgard (realm)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funygirl38/pseuds/funygirl38
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's descent complete, he seeks the solace that only death can bring until someone gives him hope and a chance to find love again.</p><p> </p><p>Check out the companion story board on Pinterest!</p><p>http://www.pinterest.com/funygirl38/ascension-by-deborah-austin/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

The rabbit had heard him. It rose on its haunches, ears twitching, large black eyes unblinking. There was little to be done for it though, the animal would either make a run for it or decide foraging was a better option for self-preservation.  
He sat on the ground, his back against the tree, body nestled between its gnarled roots. As slowly as he was able, he slid the tip of his boot into the stirrup of the crossbow and pulled the stock back with both hands, grimacing at the whisper of pain across his collarbone into his right shoulder.   
He chanced another peek around the trunk of the tree at the rabbit which had opted to continue foraging. Leaning back in, he fit the bolt into the chamber and slowly swung the crossbow around the side of the tree. Easing onto his stomach, he braced his elbows in the crook of a wide root, cheek against the stock.   
The rabbit swung its head up, its little muzzle working a few blades of grass, eyes trained on where he lay. He held still, not daring to blink until the rabbit dropped its head again. He took a deep breath in, blew it out and pulled the trigger.  
The rabbit hopped high into the air. At first he thought he had missed it but after another half-hearted leap, the rabbit dropped and lay still. He broke into a smile as he scrambled to his feet. Drawing his dagger, he half ran, half crawled to his kill. A handful of dried berries, the last of his rations, were all he'd had to eat and that had been two days ago. He had to force himself not to slice into the rabbit and eat it raw. His hands were trembling and he made to still them as he flipped the rabbit on its back, fearing in his eagerness that he would cut too deep, slice into the organs and taint the meat.   
When he removed the head, the blood gushed forth onto the bed of brown leaves covering the forest floor, the coppery scent causing him to drool. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of blood across his cheek. His breath hung vaporous in the air as he set about skinning and gutting the small animal. Then with a strip of leather, he fastened the back legs together hanging it in a tree to drain while he went in search of tinder to start a fire.

The light overhead was beginning to wane by the time he returned to retrieve the rabbit. He cleared a small patch of ground to bare earth, setting some small branches and dry leaves in a pile. He reached into the satchel at his side and took out two small sharp rocks, striking them together until sparks flew onto the leaves. He blew on them as they began to smolder, encouraging the sparks to a flame, adding more tinder until the fire was big enough to support larger branches.   
Satisfied that the fire was well on its way, he turned his attention to making a spit on which to suspend the rabbit finally finishing the Y shaped poles when the last of the sun's rays disappeared over the edge of the surrounding mountains. Only when the rabbit was securely run through with a length of green wood and roasting above the low fire did he sit down, his back to a rock outcrop staring into the flames, letting his mind to wander.

 

He'd come undone for want of a better word. It was not that he'd allowed the madness to overtake him, he simply couldn't stop it. He had become the face of evil. Cruel, cold, calculating but nothing he did, nothing he said could ever bury the pain, the grief, the loss. No measure of relief, not the violence he had visited on countless others in a never ending cycle of remorseless rage, the complete and total rejection of his brother could satisfy him, though the oaf always felt he was never beyond redemption no matter how depraved his actions.   
Those self same actions had resulted in his eventual imprisonment in the cells below Asgard, his days blending together until insanity seemed a very real prospect and indeed, he began to wonder if he had succumbed to it when, one evening as he lay on his cot staring at the flickering torch outside the cell door, she had appeared to him. Smiling, her eyes shining, she'd held out her hand as if to beckon him to come with her. He had struggled to his feet but the spirit, hallucination, whatever it had been, faded away, leaving behind only himself, still locked in his cell in a fetal position on the cold stone floor. It was then that he decided that he would indeed follow her.  
Dark day followed dark day. He refused food, leaving it to moulder on the flagstone floor. Odin had come to his cell once to reason with him upon compulsion from Frigga, he was sure of it. Thor much more often. He had rebuffed both. Even Frigga's herself failed to move him. He had lain down on his cot, turned his face to the wall and waited for death to come.  
Death did not come, however, though in his opinion, it sent one of its demons. One morning, he heard Skiver speaking with someone, then the jingle of the massive set of keys that hung on a hook at the side of Skiver's desk. When Skiver tapped on the bars of the cell, he lay immobile, uncaring.   
“Ye have a visitor,” Skiver grunted.  
A high pitched cackle filled the cell.  
“He has already had a visitor.”  
“Nae, he has no had any visitors for half a moon at least.”  
Another cackle rent the air and he shuddered, folding further in upon himself hearing the clank of the key into the lock, the squeal of the hinges as the cell door swung open.  
He listened to the shuffling gait as it approached his cot and he felt a hand touch his face, searching.   
“Even sightless I can find the young prince. Do you not allow him a bit of water to clean himself with or must the evil be without as well as within?”  
“Must you grope for me, crone?” he snapped, pulled himself tighter into a ball.  
“Oh, aye, but I bring the water and the cloth and he throws it at the bars, I can only provide, I canna do much more.”  
Another voice, lighter, younger, that of the crone's protege, Trena,“Astrid, please let me fetch you a chair.”  
“Ah child, no need. I shall share the young prince's bed,” another cackle, this time louder. “Listen to me, sounding like a common hand maid. I meant I shall sit beside the prince on his cot.”  
At the words “hand maid” he turned over struggled to sit up.  
“What do you want with me, seer? State your business and be off.”  
Trena stared at him, tilting her head as she eased Astrid down to the edge of the cot where she landed with a grunt,  
“Old bones, old bones..”   
As Astrid put a hand to his face again, he shied away.  
“The young prince has matured. He grows a beard,” she smiled, put her hand to his chest, “It would seem you too are only bones.”   
She poked at his ribs and he jumped with a growl.“Leave off me you hag!”  
“Think you your problems will be solved in the afterlife? That is where your problems now lay.”  
He sighed heavily falling back to his pillow, “That is where my salvation lies. Death would be a sweet release for me. You know nothing.”  
But Astrid leaned closer in, “I know she has visited you.”  
Had anyone asked, he would have said he was far beyond emotion, his heart hardened beyond feeling and yet tears sprang to his eyes.  
“ 'Twas only a vision, beckoning me to follow and that is what I wish to do. Now I only wait for death.”  
Astrid nodded, “Indeed, it must be an inviting prospect, an end to all suffering, but know this, the girl herself was never meant to die. At least not then, and certainly not in the way she did. That in itself is known, I suppose by you best of all, young prince.”  
He covered his face with his hands, “Leave me alone. Trouble me not with talk of what has been.”  
Astrid patted one bony shoulder, “Would you allow my company if I spoke to you of what is to come?”  
“I know what is to come, I welcome it,” he shifted away from her weight against his side, startled when he felt her slap him aside his head.  
“Foolish man, foolish man-child. Do you not wish to see her again? To right the wrongs, to restore her? Or is the dark prince ready to surrender?”  
His laughter sounded foreign to him, so long had it lain dormant in his throat, “She is beyond the veil. You speak in riddles.”  
Her answering chortle set his teeth on edge.  
“She is between night and day. She stands with one foot in the land of the living and one foot in the realm of the spirits, among the Tuatha De Danan. She has followed in the way of her ancestors. She should have rested for all eternity but as her death was an abomination, a rend in the fabric of the universe, she is not beyond saving.”  
He raised his head to stare at the old seer, “How?”  
Astrid frowned, “Death is not an ending, it is a journey. She rests at a juncture in a realm known as Tir Na Nog.”  
His patience was beginning to fray, “I know of no such place. She lies on a bier in Alfheim, far beyond saving.”  
Astrid sighed then, “It does not matter what I say, you will not listen to me thus you will lose the chance to right your wrongs.”  
He felt the old frustration rise within him, “What must I do? Tell me or leave so I may have peace again to continue my own journey.”  
“You must travel to the land of Eire to find her.”  
“I know not of this land and even if I did in fact find her, what then?”  
Astrid chuckled, “You know it by another name. As for what to do with your servant girl when you find her..,” she shrugged, “I know not.”  
He stood unsteadily from the cot, felt the weakness in his body, “This is useless. I am imprisoned here. I will remain so for the rest of my days however short they may be.”  
Astrid stood with him, “Petition Odin for permission to perform a pilgrimage. It would not be a lie so much as the stretching of the truth and as you are adept at both, it should be easy. Tell him you wish to travel to the holy mountain. Tell him you wish to see Hegljfell,” she paused, smiled. “But you have always had the ability to travel to Midgard hanging about your neck. I suppose if he refused, you could slip away on your own.”  
He touched the outline of the Uruz beneath his dirty tunic, the one item they allowed him to retain as a token. “Odin will never again trust me, certainly not where Midgard is concerned.”  
Astrid nodded, “Let me work on him, make him see the virtue of such a journey.”

Thus it came to pass one day, when he was at the threshold of death that Skiver came to the door of his cell with two royal guards.  
“There he is, ye will have to carry him out. There's nary life left in his legs.”  
Four strong arms lifted him from his cot, setting his heart pounding. He was laid upon a litter and carried through the corridors of the palace to a chamber he dimly recalled. Only when he had been lain on a cot by the guards and he heard a voice did he realize where he was.  
“Very good. Tell Helgi I will need rice gruel and beef broth to begin with, oh and dried berries to bring up his strength.”   
He opened his eyes to see Clotho hunched over him, hand on his forehead. “No fever. In that at least luck is with us.”  
He gestured to one of the guards, “See that fresh garments and a basin of water are provided. Lord Loki has been neglected for quite some time.”  
A servant boy soon arrived with a basin and fresh clothes. When Clotho waved the boy over to wash him down, the boy stood there pale with fear until Clotho chided him.   
“The stories you have heard about the dark prince are greatly exaggerated, my boy. See to your chore.”  
Loki had managed a half-hearted smile as he recalled the stories the boy had likely heard. Tales of his fits of red rage in battle, the night he had supposedly thrown a servant girl, Erwen, over the railing to her death, his mindless fury when they took Eidra from him, countless stories.  
The boy swallowed his fear then. Loki listened to the water trickling back into the basin as the boy squeezed the cloth out and gingerly touched the collar of his tunic. Purely out of malice, he fervently wished for the strength to sit up. He would likely have given the young lad apoplexy.  
“Sir, I do not, I cannot lift his shirt..”  
His arm was lifted, dropped from his tunic, a wizened but strong hand around the back of his neck lifting him forward as the tunic was worked from over his head, then he was lain back down on the bed, heart thundering worse than it had before. He pulled in a deep breath.   
“Go on now boy, make it quick, Helgi shall be here presently with his food.”  
Loki shivered violently while the boy sponged layers of sweat and dirt off him, Clotho helping at times to move him about.   
When they had finished drying him with a linen towel, they made to redress him. He tried to help but was as weak as a kitten.   
“Loki, you have descended into the very bowels of Hel itself.” Clotho clucked his tongue as he lifted one leg to draw on a pair of breeches and felt the spare bones beneath his fingers.  
Helgi brought the rice and broth though she spoke not a word to him. Eidra's death had broken her heart almost as completely as it had broken his, though instead of letting vent to her rage as he had done she had come to blame him entirely, reasoning that had he never touched her she would still be alive. She was right, of that he was certain.  
One of the palace guards had remained when Helgi left and as he took off his helmet, Loki saw the red hair, blue eyes and the open face, now grown into the guise of a man.  
“Silas,” he rasped, “How long has it been?”  
“Five seasons, Milord.” Silas colored slightly, still ever much the boy he'd once known.  
Loki smiled. Even the effort required to speak brought him to the point of exhaustion. He took another deep breath, “How fares Ingrid?”  
Silas fiddled with the helmet in his hands, “Good, Milord, she is heavy with child.”  
“Ah, I did not know. Congratulations are in order.”  
“Thank you, Milord.”  
“Come boy,” Clotho herded him from the room, “Lord Loki needs to eat and rest.”  
He was sorry to see Silas go but he had not the strength to protest. Clotho was now sitting him up, propping pillows behind his back.   
“I should have had the servant boy shave you but I am sure if I had handed him a razor and told him to approach you, he would have dropped dead there on the floor, I am much closer to the end of my journey than he be. I will take care of that beard later.”  
Clotho held the bowl and started to spoon the gruel into his mouth. It had been laced with honey and after five days with but a cup of water here and there, it had tasted like pure nectar. His stomach begged to differ with him. It clenched at the first bite and he had sicked up the sweetened gruel. Eventually, however, with small spoonfuls doled out slowly, he had managed to keep it down. Clotho put the mug of broth on a small stool beside the bed.  
“I must tend to a wound. I will return. See that you drink the broth for it will do no good sitting there in the cup.”  
He had finished the broth and then dozed, curled into a ball beneath the heavy coverlet until Clotho brought him another bowl of gruel later that evening.

Within the space of a week, he was able to sit up at the edge of the bed and work his legs as Clotho insisted. “Your muscles have seen little use in that cell. You have lost much muscle and you must build it back up.”  
After a few more days had passed, Loki expected he would be returned to his cell and said as much. Clotho had laid a hand on his shoulder.  
“Returned to your cell? Why, my boy, Astrid made Odin promise to grant you an audience provided you were well enough to attend. Bringing you to that point was the job given me.”  
Loki had been speechless. The old crone had convinced hard-hearted Odin to listen to her. He doubted the AllFather would be so indulgent when it came his turn. He entertained no such illusion that Odin would allow him to search for that which he and Thor had sought to so completely destroy. He would need to think of a convincing argument for the pilgrimage though in the end, he believed he was embarking upon a fool's errand.  
When Clotho had insisted that he be allowed to walk the halls to strengthen his legs, Odin had relented, providing he was accompanied by a royal guard. Silas had volunteered and after a couple afternoons spent walking, Loki was fairly certain he knew why. They would make small talk while they walked but Loki could detect more pressing questions lurking just beneath the surface of their conversations.   
One afternoon, he bade him, “Speak plainly, boy. I see by your face you wish to do so.”  
Silas did not immediately answer, simply kept walking but when Loki prodded him again, Silas had slowed his gait.  
“When Eidra died, I turned to my Ingrid in my grief. Why did you let your sorrow, your pain turn your heart to stone?”  
It was Loki's turn to pause. How to explain away five seasons of uncontrollable anger, fury, unending pain so intense it had driven him to madness, venting his rage upon the nine realms in an effort to assuage his grief. In the end, he could not.  
“You know what you saw, what you heard, I cannot give you an answer when I scarce know why myself. When the time comes that I may put my actions into words, I will tell you.”  
Silas had given him a thin smile, “I did not expect an answer. I could not have lost my Ingrid and come through with my sanity intact.”  
“Do not fool yourself, boy. I did not escape unscathed.”  
Silas had accepted his answer, visiting him from time to time as he recovered in Clotho's chambers, even bringing Ingrid once to see him though she could not bring herself to look up at him, so terrified was she to be in his presence.

A little over a fortnight later, he was deemed if not fully restored at least recovered by Clotho, able to face Odin. The morning of the audience, he was brought to his old chambers a few doors down from Thor's. Once there, he swung open the doors of his wardrobe to take down his ceremonial dress, wrinkling his nose at the smell of must. The hem of his long coat had swept against something which fell out onto the floor. It was the green and gold baby blanket Eidra had knit so long ago, stashed at the back of the wardrobe. He picked it up, held it to his nose and breathed deep, hoping her scent had not completely faded with time. It was there, very faint, the odor of old fabric, dry cedar almost overtaking it. He closed his eyes, determination set into his heart. If the old crone was indeed right, he would find Eidra or die trying.

He stood outside the throne room with Silas, waiting to be announced to Odin.  
“A pilgrimage, where?”  
“To Helgajfell to offer up sacrifice in honor of Eidra. Perhaps then I will find peace.” It was only a half truth. There would be no peace for him if he failed in his task.  
Silas donned his helmet and nodded as he walked through the curtains. Loki heard his name announced, and, on unsteady feet, he followed.  
Odin sat on his throne, leaning forward, clutching his staff. Beside him stood Thor, his face an unreadable mask. Loki bowed to them both. He could see the tremors that had begun to plague Odin, and he wondered if the increasingly feeble King of Asgard was now merely a figurehead.   
“AllFather, I wish you health and peace,” the words felt cold and dry in his mouth.  
Odin gave a small nod, “Astrid has preyed upon my good will that I should give you audience. She said it was of grave importance. It would seem you had readied yourself for the journey to Hel..”  
Loki bit back bitter words. Of course, where else would someone who had fallen so low be expected to land. He wanted to thank Odin for his great confidence in him, instead he bowed.  
“I wish to make a pilgrimage,” Loki's eyes flickered to Thor.  
“To where?” Thor moved forward.  
“To the holy mountain.”  
Thor gave a mirthless smile, “To Midgard? Impossible.....father.”  
Every muscle, every fiber in his being twitched as he held his ground, unwilling to barter his chances for the pleasure of taking Thor by the throat and choking him out. He waited.  
“And to what purpose would this pilgrimage serve?”  
He advanced a few steps up to the throne, “I wish to place a tribute, a sacrifice to,” he paused. They would likely deny him but it must be said, “To Eidra, to honor her. I would find the peace you wished me in return. I have been lost for so long. I must to find my way back. I beg of you for the love of what I once was, let me assuage my pain. I endeavor to return to my former self in light and in life.”  
Thor shook his head, “Better to return to something more than what you were before..”   
Odin rose, Thor at his elbow, ever ready to catch him should he fall, and walked down the steps to where he stood.  
“You believe this will serve to placate her spirit, ease your troubled mind? I ask myself what I would have done had I been in your position and I cannot bring myself to imagine such a horror though I would have had the strength to abide by the laws. You have ever been weak in spirit and in courage. A pity, truly a pity.” Odin's face had gone blank for a moment as he stood staring about the empty throne room, “ I grow ever weary of the burden of ruling Asgard. I would like nothing better than to rest but before I choose that path, I must listen to the counsel of those around me. Frigga pleaded with me to harden not my heart....I will grant you your request.”  
“Father, you cannot let him...!” Thor cried but Odin held up his hand.  
“He will do what he must do.” Odin held out a hand before Loki, “I must warn you also. You travel ever under Heimdall's sentinel gaze. If your pilgrimage fails to succeed in its purpose. If you decide to take out your frustration, your rage, yet again on the innocents of these realms. I shall see to it personally that you will return to your cell, never again to see the light of day. Do you ken?”  
Loki bowed his head, “I do.”  
Odin had placed his hand on his shoulder, “Find yourself, find your peace.”

 

The juices sizzled as they dripped from the rabbit carcass into the fire, waking him from his reverie. He rose to one knee and leaned over the fire with his dagger. Nimbly slicing a piece from one hindquarter, he leaned back tossing the piece of meat from hand to hand, blowing on it to cool it off before he put it in his mouth. It seemed done on the outside but would need more time to cook through.  
Still, the morsel had temporarily sated him. He sat back, waiting until he could no longer bear it. He took the rabbit from the spit, laid it on the blanket before him, crosspole and all, and made quick work of the sweet meat. Next to the rice gruel, it was the most satisfying meal he could remember in recent time.   
He banked the fire, throwing the rabbit carcass on it to burn, then lay with his back curled to a small boulder, staring into the fire, waiting for sleep to take him wondering when or how he would find the true reason he had traveled so far from home.


	2. 2

Shivering with the damp cold, he drew his cloak closer about him and opened his eyes. The rock studded hills around him lay covered in a gray heavy fog. The fire had died down to coals, steaming with the morning dew. He stood, stretched, hefted the scabbard containing his short sword and fastened it around his waist and shoved dirt over the remains of the fire with the side of his boot. Shouldering his pack, he emerged from the little copse of rocks and trees where he'd spent the night. As the light of day increased, he surveyed the foreign landscape, verdant green hillocks dotted with great boulders, gentle mountains before him, a meandering stream. Behind him, in the distance, the wild waters of the ocean where he had first stepped onto the island.   
He had visited the palace library before approaching Heimdall, asking his permission to travel from Asgard. He had spread the maps of Midgard out before him on one of the large wooden tables, oblivious to the stares of the Aesir, the scholars around him. After some searching, he found Tir Na Nog, a large island shrouded in mist off the coast of the Midgardian country called Ireland. Where exactly he would have to go when he arrived, how he would even find Eidra provided feeble minded Astrid had told him the truth, he could not tell from the ancient maps. 

His question remained unanswered as he made his way further into the interior of the island from the rocky coast. Now, as midday approached and hunger began to return, he mused about the futility of his quest, fingering the crossbow hooked to his pack. The rabbit, though filling, had been small. He would have to hunt again before long.   
His shoulders were beginning to ache. He dropped the pack down onto the ground and twisted at the waist, stretching, listening to the crackle of bone and ligament as they slipped back into their rightful place then stood scanning the horizon with a modicum of hope the path he should take would reveal itself to him.   
All at once, he heard someone singing, faint but clear. A decidedly male voice, and in a language that took his breath away. It was the secret language of the Alfari, Gaelic. It had been ages since he'd heard the words spoken and he couldn't recall many of them anymore but he was certain. Just the sound shot shivers up his spine.   
He turned his head back and forth to determine the direction the singing was coming from, waited a moment longer, the wind ruffling his hair, carrying the voice to him from to his right. He could see a low hill sloping off along the wide valley he'd been descending into that entire morning. Carefully picking his way around a rocky outcrop, he stopped to listen again. The singing now became coupled with the sound of digging. He patted the hilt of his short sword, slowing his forward progress, as he continued over the ridge of the hill coming to the edge of the outcrop where he finally caught a glimpse of the singer a short distance below.  
A young man of middling height was rearing back with a spade in his hands. His long brown hair was tied into a pony tail that swayed as he shoved the spade into the side of the hill, cutting square blocks of solid earth and setting them to the side on a little pile he was creating. The man had a pleasant ruddy face, high cheekbones much like his own but squarer in the jaw. He wore a long tan tunic tied at the waist with a brown rope belt, a pair of dark brown long breeches and short boots, all of which were muddied with dark dirt.   
Loki watched the stranger drive his spade into the dirt once more and stop to look up at him with a hand on his hip.   
“Another pair of strong hands would be well appreciated. D'ya think ye can lend one to help me load that there cart?”  
The stranger had been aware of him the whole time. Momentarily flummoxed, he looked about, spying a wagon, half loaded with blocks of grassy earth, a shaggy brown pony between the traces who seemed to know he was being given the once over as he glanced back at the two men.  
Loki dropped his pack on the ground, started down the side of the hill until he was standing even with the man.  
“You might start with that little pile I've been working on just there,” He tossed his head to his left at the stack of sodden grassy blocks. He then dug his spade into the earth once again to cut another chunk free. Without question, Loki began to load the blocks into the back of the wagon. All at once, he felt a peculiar tightening in his chest. It was as if the air had suddenly changed, grown heavier, harder to take in. He put the block of earth down on the wagon bed with a thud, gasping, seeking to contain the vertigo that threatened to pitch him to the ground.  
A hand on his shoulder caused him to whirl around. The man with the spade stood staring at him, concern plain on his face.   
“Lad, is it sick ye are?”   
Loki shrugged off his hand and stepped back, feeling more disoriented than before. Suddenly his legs gave way and he sat down hard on the damp ground, holding his head, the vertigo worsening.  
The man knelt beside him, “Are ye an outlander?”   
He put a hand to Loki's cheek, causing him to flinch and recoil from the unfamiliar man's touch. “Ah 'twould seem so. It will pass, trust me. Breathe easy now.” The man stood, offered his hand and, after a moment, Loki took it, hauling himself up though he kept the other hand on the bed of the wagon to steady himself.   
“I know not of the word “outlander”, I am searching for a place called Tír na nÓg. Have you heard ot it?” The vertigo was starting to abate but he kept his hand on the wagon, still unsteady.  
“If 'tis Tír na nÓg ye seek then look no further for such is where ye now rest your feet, more's the pity,” the man waved his hand in a grand gesture and bowed slightly, “We've not had an outlander in our midst for many a year. The world outside has become inured, blind to the old ways, how is it ye have crossed our borders?”  
Loki shook his head, unwilling as of yet to show this stranger the Uruz, “I was told to come here... to find someone.”  
The man smiled then, “Unless ye are of the Sidhe, the Tuatha De Danan or ye plan to die, 'tis the only other reason to step foot on this island.”   
He took Loki's hand, giving it a hard shake, “The name's Colum Brinn, whom might ye be?”   
“Loki.”  
“ 'Tis an odd name. From where do ye hail?”  
Loki glanced about the surrounding hills, “I hail from Asgard.”  
Colum smiled, “Ye are indeed an Outlander,” he waved a hand at the earth bricks, “Come now, help me to load the rest o' this peat. I needs must get it to the village to be put up to dry.”  
Loki leaned over and picked up another brick, “Do you use them to build with?”  
Colum laughed as he tossed another brick upon the wagon, “No, they are used to burn, for our hearths.”  
“You burn the earth for warmth?” Loki stared at the bricks closely.   
“Aye, for cooking too. Look closer at them, they are not earth but moss and grasses. They make a fine fire when dried out.”   
They soon made short work of the pile and Colum wiped his hands on his tunic, “A little bit o' extra dirt will make nary a difference. Go fetch yer pack, Loki, we will return to my village and see if we cannot find whom ye seek.”  
Loki trudged up the hill to fetch his pack but when he descended to the peat bank, the vertigo returned again, stronger, and he had to lean against the wagon until it passed. “It is this place makes me unable to walk a straight line. There is strong magic here.”  
“Indeed,” Colum nodded, “Come sit on the buckboard with me, 'tis a sight more comfortable than the blocks a peat.”  
Loki climbed up beside him, tossing his pack in the rear of the wagon.   
Colum glanced at the pack, the crossbow hanging from it. “Ye seem armed to the teeth, me friend.”  
Loki placed a hand on the hilt of his short sword, “I deemed it necessary to protect myself.”  
“And have ye had any occasion to do so?”   
“None.”  
Colum looked about the landscape. “And ye will likely have none here.”  
The path from the peat bank widened into a crude track, emptying out onto another rutted road that seemed better traveled. Colum steered the pony to his left and continued on.  
Soon they began to pass cottages, some crude huts. People sweeping the doorstep or hanging wash out to dry, weeding in a garden would wave at the two of them as they passed. At Loki's puzzled countenance, Colum elbowed him,“What troubles ye, outlander?”  
“I am not sure, I believe I was sent here upon a fool's errand. I do not think this is where I am meant to be.”  
“A curious predicament,” Colum nodded to a man on a horse who passed them going in the opposite direction, “Perhaps I can make sense of it.”  
Loki paused. How could he give voice to his confusion when he was unsure of what he was supposed to be seeing? “I do not ken. These people we see, they too are denizens of Tír na nÓg?”  
Colum smiled, “They are that.”  
“They are peasants, families, common folk. Were the land a bit different, I would think I was traveling through my kingdom.”  
“Kingdom? Ye are a king then?”  
“I am a prince.” Loki closed his eyes, rubbed them, he was tired and hungry.  
“Ah, does the legend of this realm not exist in your land of Asgard?”  
He shook his head, “But this is where I was told I would find her.”  
Colum sat up straighter, “Her? Ye look for a maiden?”  
“Yes,” Up ahead of them a large village was fast coming into view.  
“What was her name?”  
“Eidra.”  
Colum's laughter startled him. He stared at Colum who was holding his stomach, “Ye seek the lass who is between worlds. She is fiery, a fine woman.”  
Loki's gripped Colum's arm tightly, “You know her?”  
“Aye, I do. The whole village does. She is well spoken of.”  
“Where is she?”  
Colum pulled the pony up short beside a small cottage and jumped down from the wagon, Loki following suit.  
“I must find her. Where is she?”  
Colum rubbed his head, hand on his hip, “Tell me first how ye knew her.”  
Loki was trembling, every muscle in his body bowstring taut, “What does it matter how I know her?”  
“Listen, me friend, each person, be they humble peasant, High King, prince, elf, dwarf, when they come to Tír na nÓg, they find life sweeter than that they had known...”  
But Loki was not listening. He began to walk down the lane past cottages of different shapes and sizes, peering into windows, straining to hear conversation, to hear her voice which was securely lodged in his memory. Colum trotted after him.   
“I've talked to Eidra many times. Mayhap ye should listen to me afore ye..”   
Loki stopped short outside a small cottage, painted ivory white with a high thatched roof and an open door. He trotted up to the threshold, his boots squelching in the mud of the dooryard. The sound of laughter drifted out to him in a voice he had not heard for five seasons. Without hesitation, he strode through the doorway, Colum at his heels.

She had her back to him, bent forward over the fire. Two other women sat in chairs beside the hearth, older ladies, their plump faces contorted in wide smiles. Their laughter abated when they spied Loki. He stopped, waiting for her to turn around, his mind reeling, hunger, exhaustion forgotten.   
“Sally?” she called out, “Whatever is wrong?”  
He could barely breathe as she stood, smiling, to face the room. All at once he reached out and caught her in his arms, crushing her to him with cry of joy that made one of the ladies echo him with a surprised shriek. He planted a kiss on Eidra's forehead, his hands at her shoulders scarcely able to comprehend that she was truly there before him, solid flesh and blood. He stepped back to hold her at arms length. Freed from his embrace, Eidra thrust her hands forward, giving him a mighty shove. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over a chair at the table behind him,  
“How dare you touch me, how dare you take liberty with my person!” she cried, “Who in Freyr's name are you?”  
Loki's breath caught in his throat,“Eidra?”  
“How is it you know my name?”  
The strength drained from his legs as he reached to steady himself against the table, “Do you not recognize me? Have I changed so very much?” He touched his face, felt the stubble of a two day old beard.  
Eidra reached up beside the mantel and took down a cast iron pan, swung it back ready to make a swipe at him, “How should I know when I have never seen the likes of you before? Now be gone from of my house ere I crack your skull with my skillet!”   
Her sound rebuff tore at his soul, stripped from him all pretense of decorum. He felt the old rage rising within him as he strode up to her.  
“How can you not know me?!” He reached out, grabbing her wrist, felt her struggle to swing the pan at him.   
“How can you not know the man who shared your bed so many nights? Do you not remember our child, our dear Cait?” At his own question, he looked about the room praying to the gods that Cait had been brought here as well. His inattention was his undoing as she leaned over his arm, biting into the flesh of his forearm. He yelped in pain, letting her hand go, ducking as she swung the pan around at him.   
“You are mad!” she shouted, “Get out!”  
She swung the pan again, missing him by mere inches. One of the women yelled, “Eidra, wait!” but she kept backing him toward the doorway. In his effort to oblige her, he mis-stepped, his heel catching the raised stone threshold, tumbling him backwards into the dooryard. He looked up just in time to see the underside of the pan hurtling at him and he rolled clear, hearing the pan slap the mud with a wet smack. He pushed himself to his knees, gasping for breath, one final thought running through his head, “She does not remember me” before there came a blinding pain at the back of his skull and the world winked out.

He was being lifted up from somewhere high and he groaned, struggling to free himself from the hands upon him. He groped for the dagger at his thigh but could not make his hand obey his command. He opened his eyes, blinking wildly at the searing white sky. Raising his head to take in his surroundings, he saw before him a blurred image of a cottage, its door wide open. He looked up again to watch the sky disappear in favor of a post and beam ceiling, felt himself being lowered to a wood plank floor before a fireplace replete with a roaring fire. He tried to rise upon his elbows but another surge of pain from the back of his head curtailed any further attempts. Then he heard a voice he did not recognize.   
“Ah, Col, you should have stopped him while you had the chance.”  
“And how do ye think I shoulda gone about that, now?”  
The stranger's voice sounded exasperated, “I haven't the faintest idea, lied to him, tackled him perhaps.”  
“He would not be put off.”  
“Well he's well put off now, I think.”  
Loki struggled to raise his head again, eliciting another groan. A round face white with whiskers floated in the air above him, “My boy, are you able to sit up?”  
A hand slipped beneath the nape of his neck, lifting him forward, another at his back, until he was sitting with his head in his hands. He felt fingers at the back of his skull and he winced at the sharp biting pain the touch elicited. He felt unbalanced.  
“She caught you a right good one, the brute.”  
Loki felt bile rise in his throat, grateful that he hadn't already eaten   
“I feel sick,” he mumbled.  
“Basin, Col,” the stranger called.  
He leaned forward, discharging the contents of his stomach, as meager as they were, into the earthenware bowl the stranger had set in his lap.  
“That'll be from the blow to the head, I'll warrant ye,” Colum turned away, “Ah I should've made tracks outside, I cannot endure watching someone purge themselves.”  
The stranger laughed, “Col, you are as fragile as any woman. Fetch the man a cup of water from the well.”  
Loki's vision had begun to clear a bit and so he chanced to take a closer look at the stranger who now stood at the fireplace, stirring something in a small kettle. He was a short rotund man with a ruddy complexion, watery blue eyes, long silver hair done in a ponytail at his back and a long white beard. He wore a wide tunic with a loosely done rope belt about where his waist should have been, a pair of leather breeches and tall boots. Loki endeavored to raise his head but another wave of nausea overtook him and he started to retch again, gripping the bowl tightly. The stranger bent down, picked up one hand and wrapped his fingers around a small pewter cup.   
“There, rinse your mouth and take a drink.”   
The water was shocking cold but sweet. He put the cup and the basin on the floor. Colum caught him as he tried to stand and pitched forward to his knees, nearly upending the basin.  
“Boyo, ye might want to sit still a wee bit longer.”  
The stranger gestured towards a small cot, “Deposit him right here, I shall tend to him.”  
As Colum eased him to the mattress, the stranger made to unfasten the scabbard at his waist. Loki shoved his hand away with a grunt. Words still failed him.   
“There now, son, I'll not take it from you. I only wish to set it on the ground so that you might be a bit more comfortable when you lie down.”   
He made another attempt. This time, Loki let him loosen the belt and remove the scabbard. The stranger lifted Loki's legs, set them on the cot and he lay back, his head sinking to a blissfully soft pillow as he moved to make himself more comfortable.  
“Ye will have to watch him. I have seen greater men stricken so only to fall asleep forever.”  
The stranger paused in the middle of removing Loki's boots, “Is he not of this realm already?”  
Colum chuckled, “Ah no, he is like ye, Chris.”  
Loki looked up at the stranger who now had a name put to him.  
“An outlander? What brings him here to this realm?”  
Colum patted Chris's back, “What brought ye here? Love was it?”  
Chris looked down at Loki, “The poor boy then. Leave him with me and I will set him straight, maybe for him there's hope.”  
“As there was for ye, I'll not hold my breath,” Colum patted him once more, “I'll see ye in town, me portly friend.”  
Chris stood at the doorway watching Colum climb into his wagon and head off back down the path towards the village. By the time Chris turned back to Loki, he had closed his eyes, an arm slung over his face.  
“It would seem I have my work cut out for me,” Chris sighed.


	3. 3

The throbbing pain inside his head had finally subsided enough for him to sit up without feeling violently ill when he awoke early that next morning. The man, whom he'd discovered was named Christopher Wallace “Of the Hempstead Wallaces” had kept up such a din half the night he could scarce sleep until he had begged for peace to rest. Chris had then advised him a head wound often led to worse things if one were to fall asleep under its spell.   
“Worse things?”  
“As in death for you, if Colum is to believed in his tall tales.”  
He was sure now death was indeed all that separated him from Eidra, the only thing keeping them apart. Certainly she would know him when he was the same as she.  
It was to this purpose then that he rose from the bed listening for the heavy dream-filled breathing of his keeper who had himself lost the battle to stay awake, retrieved his scabbard quietly from its resting place on the chair beside the cot and set off out the cottage door.

Chris heard the scrape of the door against the lintel and opened his eyes, peering into the dim firelit room. Try as he might, he couldn't see his guest and so hauled himself up from his own cot on the opposite side of the room. As he neared the bed, he noticed it was empty.   
“Probably gone to relieve himself,” he yawned, stretching the kinks from his back.  
As he was turning about, he happened to look to the floor. It was then he noticed the scabbard he'd lain on the chair beside the bed was gone. He looked towards the open door. 

Loki stood atop a hillock a short way from the little cottage watching the sun paint a thin line of light across the horizon. He drew his short sword from his scabbard, knelt on the ground digging the hilt firmly into the dirt, holding the tip of the blade at the skin just above his navel as he began to speak..  
“Lo, gjør Det jeg ser min far   
Lo, gjør Det jeg ser min mor og   
Mine brødre og mine søstre   
Lo, gjør Det jeg ser en linje av mine folk tilbake til begynnelsen”....

It was in this position that Chris found him, silhouetted against the brightening dawn.  
“Soon you shall know me again,” Loki murmured as a hand gripped his shoulder, rocking him backward. Loki lost his grip on the sword and it fell to the ground with a metallic thud. He twisted about to glare at a bent over winded Chris  
“Have you gone mad, boy?”  
Loki picked his sword up from the ground and repositioned it before him, “You know not what I have been through. I should have followed Eidra into oblivion long ago.”  
Chris held up his hand, “Consider this then. What do you hope to gain from this gruesome act?”  
“My love does not know me because I still live, I am sure of it. If I sacrifice my life, I will be with her again.” Loki lifted his hands, lacing his fingers behind his head.  
“In a manner of speaking,” Chris drew a deep breath, “But hear me out first, then think on it again.”  
Loki said nothing, merely looked to the horizon which was now bright with the rising sun.  
Chris moved to stand beside him. “When you shuffle off this mortal coil, where shall you waken in the next world?”  
Loki frowned, “Helheim, in all likelihood. Valhalla were I to die in battle.”  
Chris nodded, “You mean you will not waken on the shores of Tír na nÓg?” he looked about the landscape, “upon which your love now stands?”  
Loki sat back on his heels, his arms dropping to his sides, “Speak plainer, old man.”  
Chris dropped down to one knee beside Loki, “Come back to the cottage and I will fix you a hearty meal, find you a clean change of clothes. Then we will have a proper discussion. If, after all is said and done, you still wish to fall upon your sword, why I shall give you a good and proper push if you like.”

The hen cackled its indignation as Chris rooted around beneath it.   
“Oh stop your bellyaching, you've plenty of eggs left to lay.”   
He handed two eggs to Loki who was standing behind him, reached into the hay filled box and removed three more.   
“Thank you little mother,” he patted the hen on her mottled brown head and waved Loki towards the cottage.

Loki sat in a high backed chair staring into the fire while Chris pulled down a pan from a pot rack beside the fireplace.   
“You see, boy, if you were to take your life, you would most certainly not come here. Your lady love would be lost forever to you. Trust me, I have pondered your solution a thousand times over, the sweet release of all worldly troubles. But knowing what I know now, that the spirit continues, returning to earth in one form or another, I shall bide my time,” he smiled to himself, “Knew me a Punjabi chap in my youth. Always going on about reincarnation and all. Pity I never had the chance to tell him he was right.”  
Chris took a white earthenware covered dish, untopped it, taking a knife and carving a good chunk of butter from its depths. He dropped the knob into the pan and set the pan on a spider beside the fire. He then walked to a little hutch in a corner beside the cottage door and pulled down two plates. He'd taken a length of sausages and a few potatoes from the storehouse on the way back to the cottage, and these he set to slicing.  
“Your lady came here quite unexpectedly. She is what the more permanent residents of Tír na nÓg consider between worlds though I've never found out why. She does not remember a goodly chunk of her life, this you already guessed. Perhaps you could fill me in as to the why and wherefore of her story.” Chris scraped the plate of sliced potatoes into the pan first where they sizzled in the hot butter, then he returned to the table to work with the sausages.  
Loki kept his eyes on the fire, “What would you wish to know?”  
“Well,” Chris paused, knife in hand, “Who is she to you? Wife? Lover?”  
“We were in love yet we were not allowed to marry.”  
“Tragic. Who kept you from happiness with your true love?”  
Loki's hands curled into fists in his lap, “Those who had say, the Allfather. My...,” he swallowed hard, the word painful, bitter on his tongue, “...brother, considered her beneath my station.”  
Chris nodded, carrying the dish of sausages over to the pan and sticking the potatoes with his knife to test them for doneness.   
“Not quite ready.” He sat on a short stool before the fire with the plate in his lap. “Family can be hard hearted. And so was she beneath your station?”  
“She was my servant.”  
Chris tapped the knife on his plate, “Mmm, Star-crossed lovers, eh? You were one of the gentry then, I gather?”  
Should he bare his soul to a man he barely knew?   
“I was a nobleman,” he murmured.  
“Tell me have you ever read Shakespeare?”  
Loki stared at him, “Who?”  
Chris smiled, “Never mind, perhaps one day I shall introduce you to his works. So two lovers from different castes, forbidden to marry, continue. Then what happened?”   
Loki clenched his teeth together. He'd relived those final days in Alfheim countless times in his mind over the past five seasons.  
“She was forced to travel to Alfheim to face the High Court's justice. While enroute, she bore me a child. A daughter, stillborn.”  
“My heart goes out to you though I must say I am a bit confused. Your lady did not bring a child with her as is the norm when a mother and child pass on.”  
Loki sat forward in the chair, “Do you know the reason for this?”  
Chris tested the potatoes again then slid the sausages into the pan.  
“One might speculate. Do you supposed the child may have lived?”  
Loki shook his head, “The child had passed on, she had no breath in her, her heart did not beat,” here, he faltered, “She was buried in the forest outside of Alfheim.”  
Chris grabbed the eggs from the pocket of his tunic, “And you buried her?”  
“My brother forbade me to do so. He believed I would not have the strength to do so. He gave the responsibility to my houseboy, Silas.”  
“So you never actually saw the child into the ground.”  
Loki glanced at Chris, “What say you?”   
Chris gazed into the pan, moved the sausages about, “Did you travel alone save for the houseboy? Eidra and yourself?”  
Loki shook his head, “My brother and my loyal kitchen maid, Helgi came with us.”  
Chris nodded, “Have you never pondered the possibility that perhaps the babe was taken to safety?”   
Loki felt fingers of ice slide down his spine, gooseflesh on his arms. He thought of watching the lights of Rialo twinkling in the distance as he waited outside the tent in the hours before Eidra had given birth, thinking of Ren in her little cottage. Helgi, in the early days before she turned her back on him, coming to his chambers with the baby she claimed was her niece. The way the child would toddle after him. Her dark hair, her sparkling blue eyes. Helgi always encouraging, fostering their relationship.  
“The gods wept,” Loki whispered, putting his hands to his face.  
Chris reached out a hand and patted him on the arm, “Forgive me, lad. I didn't mean to upset you so.”  
“No,” Loki covered his hand with his own, “The fault is mine, the whole of it all is my burden to bear.”  
Chris turned the sausages and, making room in the pan, cracked the eggs one at a time into the empty space, “Now, now. We all of us make mistakes don't we? Nobleman and scullery maid alike, still it does not solve the mystery of why she is here now in her present state. Tell me, though it be painful, how did she meet her death?”  
He clasped his hands together on his lap, “Because she was half Alfari half human, she was never supposed to know man, nor bear children.”  
“The one often goes hand in hand with the other, yes. Continue,” Chris eased the edges of the eggs from the pan with a wooden spoon and rose from the stool to fetch a cloth.  
“That she did both broke sacred Alfari law....,” he looked towards the ceiling, “..and she was put to death.”  
Chris stopped halfway to the fire, cloth in hand, mouth hung open in disbelief, “For doing what a woman was made for? For giving the most beautiful gift in all creation, life? For this she was put to death?”  
Loki could only nod. He had never wished harder for strong mead than he did now.   
“Preposterous! Weren't laws made to be broken? Tragedy, sheer tragedy.”  
Chris picked up the pan from the spider and transferred it to the table. “Come, sit and eat, if you've the appetite.”  
Chris filled the plates before him as Loki sat down at the table.   
“After Eidra's passing, I lost my mind. Havoc followed wherever I went. I would vent my grief, my rage upon whoever, whatever stood in my path. Eventually I was imprisoned beneath the palace I had once called home.”  
Chris set two mugs on the table and a jug of hard cider, “Imprisoned by whom?”  
“Odin. It was for my own good, for the safety of those around me.”  
Chris uncorked the jug and poured hard cider into the mugs, “A bad sort were you?”  
He picked up a piece of sausage and eyed it, “Indeed, I was.”  
“How does one come back from such a far trip afield?”  
Loki stared at him, “They do not. They continue on until their life is used up, until the only avenu of escape left to them is the path I wished to take this morning.”  
Chris reached over and patted his hand, “Now shall I tell you my sorry tale?”  
Loki sat forward, picked up another piece of sausage and took a bite of it, “ 'Tis only fair.”  
He smiled, took a long draught of cider, “That woman in the cottage with your intended? The fair plump lady of middling age with graying hair and sparking brown eyes?”  
“I regret to tell you, though I noticed two women there in the cottage with Eidra, I paid little attention to either of them. You ken, do you not?”   
Chris nodded, “Of course, trust me, lad...she was there, she took Eidra in when she arrived here. The woman's name is Sally, and she is, or was, my wife.”   
Loki tilted his head, “Why are you not with her at the cottage?”  
Chris turned the mug in his hands, “Well, my boy, in a manner of speaking, she too is between worlds. She is half Sidhe half human.”  
“Sidhe?”  
“Ah.” Chris poured more cider, “Of the fairy folk,”  
Loki's face brightened, “As Eidra is of the light elves.”  
“Is she indeed? Perhaps it is beginning to make sense,” Chris poured more cider into the mug Loki held up for him to refill.  
“I met my dear Sally in the year seventeen hundred and eighty two, anno domini. I was a young lad newly arrived in Tralee to be apprenticed to my Uncle Charles as a baker. 'Twas hard work but I was given an occasional afternoon off and I would wander the countryside on horseback, learning the land and the people, in my pack a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread for a fine repast. It was on one of these idylls that I came upon a young maid in a clearing,” he cleared his throat, wiped a stray tear from his eye, “She was in a fine mess, her back to a tree, her front at a rabid fox. She was trying to kick at it with her dainty little foot, ah I can see it still. The fox had nearly taken a bite of her leg once or twice before I could get down from my horse and discharge the poor wretch with my pistol....the fox not the maiden.”  
Loki chuckled, “ It would be a short story indeed had you meant the other way around.”  
“Indeed. Well she thanked me countless times over. We fell to talking. I shared my meal with her. She loved the good cheese and I told her 'twas from my uncle's herd of Herefordshires whereupon I promised to bring her a goodly chunk the next day if she would meet me at the same clearing.”  
“And was she there?” Loki leaned his elbows on the table, picking at the remains of his meal.  
Chris smiled, “She was. And the next day as well, and the next after that. Pretty soon I was courting her regularly. Her mother and stepfather lived in the next town over from Tralee and I asked her to marry me a year to the day I had saved her from the fox.”  
“She accepted then.”  
“Ah she did,” Chris laughed aloud, “But here's the rub, her parents forbade it, they were nobility and thought I was beneath them. Do you see the providence of our meeting, my boy?”  
“But you said she was your wife,” Loki poured another mug of cider.  
“She was. We eloped. We were married despite their protests and they disowned her,” Chris shook his head, “It broke her heart but we were happy together. I took over my uncle's bakery when he passed on and we did well for ourselves, though we were never able to have any children. It made her unbearably sad.”  
“Had Eidra and myself been allowed even a small measure of the happiness you had, I could have been entirely content.” Loki stared into his mug.  
“Ah but all good things come to an end, or must, it seems. One evening, soon after Shrovetide, a regal, but elderly lady arrived at our doorstep. It was Sally's mother informing her of her stepfather's passing. He had died still heartbroken that Sally had eloped with a baker's apprentice. Then and there in the pouring rain of a cold, dark eve, she cursed her daughter for this life and the next. When she left, Sally fell down in a fit of tears inconsolable, revealing to me her mother was of the Sidhe.”  
“Thus the curse had meaning.”   
Chris nodded, “And more. Within a year Sally was dead and I pined for my fair maiden so that I could no longer think, no longer make my way in the world. I became a shell of my former self, sold my shop and set out wandering the countryside as I had in my younger days though it warn't as easy as it had been forty years hence. In the darkest pit of my despair, I returned to the clearing where I had first met my Sally and was greeted by a young man. He knew me, though I had never met him. He told me that my Sally was here on the island of Tír na nÓg. She was also, as you called it, in between worlds, dead but not beyond saving because of the curse. He told me I could travel to the island to see her,” Chris paused, corked the jug of cider and rose to replace it upon the hutch shelf.   
“I asked how he knew of this to which he replied that he was Sally's father. Of course I was an old man then, as you see me now. I straight away made to drive the man off, thinking him mad but he said it was true, that her mother, a Sidhe, had fallen in love with him though she was promised to another man as a favor to his family. They shared a night of passion, producing a daughter, Sally, and in return, she had bestowed upon him the enchantment of the ageless. They would still meet on occasion though she continued to age and one day she told him of the curse she had placed on their daughter in a fit of grief. He wished to see his daughter redeemed, the curse dissolved so that Sally's mother could die in peace.”  
Here Chris sighed, “He showed me the way to the island, told me where I was to sail, what I was to say when I saw the mists surrounding the shores. I made land a day after I set off from Dingle. However when I found her in the village, I was party to nearly the same reaction as you received. I tried many a time to convince her that I was her husband, to no avail. After what seemed like an age, she began to speak civilly to me though she refused to believe I was who I claimed to be. Therefore unable to bear the thought of leaving the island without her, I decided to settle down on my little patch to farm and await the end of my days. And here I sit still, frozen in time, alone,” Chris gave Loki a mournful smile “What say you to my sad tale?”  
“I say if you had no success, why would you choose to live?”  
Chris clapped his hands together, “Because, my boy, I refuse to give up hope. I refuse to choose a life in Hell. I would rather stay here, near Sally until one day she decides to see me for who I am or perhaps changes her mind, seeing me as the lesser of two evils. For you, however, there may be more hope.”  
He stood from the table, walked to a small wardrobe beneath a set of cross cut log stairs leading to the loft and withdrew a tunic and breeches, “You need a clean set of garments.”   
He held up the tunic before Loki, “This will do for now...,” however he shook his head at the breeches, “You would go to town with them around your ankles. You will have to make do with your own.”  
Loki held up his hand, “I have a change in my pack.”   
Chris set his hands upon his hips, “Well boy, go to the well and get washed up, change, and I will take you into the village to visit a friend. He is also of the Sidhe, one of the most powerful mages in the whole of Tír na nÓg. He will tell you what must be done to return your lady fair to you. Go now, get a move on,” Chris stroked his chin, “That is unless you still wish to finish your chore from this morning.”  
Loki glanced at the scabbard lying on his cot, “If there be hope, I will still my sword for now.”  
Chris grinned, “There's a lad, now go on with you, the sun is approaching the midday hour.”  
As Loki walked outside, Chris's grin slipped and he looked to the ceiling, “Please Lord, bless this poor lad with more luck than what you afforded me.”


	4. 4

Chris had taken two horses out of the pen behind his cottage and was bringing them around to the dooryard as Loki stepped out into the midday sun.   
The horses trotted along the road to the village, Loki watching the little cottages as they passed by. He turned to Chris. “These people along the road, these houses, they live within the realm of Tír na nÓg?”  
“Yes of course.”  
“But they seem as normal peasant folk, farming, working...”  
“Ah, well as my friend has often told me, if tending the home and hearth gave you comfort in life, then it will do so in the next. Thus the village you saw when you arrived. Life continues there too, of a sort. It is sweeter in music, in drink, in food than ever it was outside the ether, but still it goes on. In fact, to celebrate Mabon this coming week, they will have a feasting and a reel. You should attend with me.”  
“Mabon? We celebrate it in Asgard as well.” Loki said, wonder in his voice.  
Chris turned to him, “Then we are not so far apart in this world are we. No my friend, life goes on,”

They reached the village limits and as before, life seemed bustling, happy. If he had wandered here on his own, he would never have imagined it to be anything but a way point on his journey. They passed the cottage where he'd seen Eidra. The door was open, smoke rising from the chimney but he dared not approach.   
They kept on through the village until they reached a larger cottage at the other end of town. It looked well kept, its stark white exterior freshly painted. Chris dismounted, tying his horse to a hitching post at the end of the walkway leading to the front door motioning for Loki following suit. Before they started toward the cottage, Chris waved him over.  
“This man is very powerful, one of the Sidhe, his magic is beyond any I have witnessed here. I implore you to show him proper respect.”  
Loki gave him a curious look, “Have I yet been disrespectful?”  
Chris patted his arm as he glanced towards the cottage, “Not at all, not at all, but 'tis always good to remind one so as to save being chid later.”  
They walked up the flagstone covered path to the front door where Chris lifted the large iron ring and rapped it against the wood. They stood back, waiting, until the door swung open to reveal a short stocky woman in a long blue cotton dress, her straight brown hair done up in a bun. She eyed them both, nodding to Chris.   
“Ah Chris, have ye come to see Fin?”  
Chris smiled, took the woman's hand and bussed it generously, “Mistress Tania, it is so lovely to see you again. I am indeed here to see Fin, I have a visitor with me who is greatly in need of his wisdom.”  
Tania showed them into a sitting area and bade them sit down beside a grand fireplace on a short settee upholstered in gold brocade contrasting its dark wood frame.  
“Tis getting colder by the day,” Tania held out her hands to the roaring fire, gazing beneath her lashes at Chris.  
“Ah, so it is. Nothing a fine posset and a good woman couldn't remedy,” Chris winked at her.  
She grinned broadly as him, “I shall announce your visit to Master Fin.”  
When she was safely from the room Chris turned to Loki, “She's been sweet on me for years. A fine woman and all, but not as fine as my Sally, I'll warrant.”  
Loki nodded, “Nor my Eidra.”

 

Eidra had smoothed the heel of the sock over the darning egg and inserted the needle into the fabric in preparation to draw it through when the tap on her shoulder startled her and she jabbed the tip into her thumb with a yelp. She turned around in her chair before the fire with her pricked finger in her mouth to see Sally staring wide eyed at her.  
“Oh Sal, you never cease to sneak up on me!”  
“I am sorry me pet, but I need to tell ye what I just spied a-riding into town,” she whispered, fairly bouncing up and down with excitement, her apron in a bunch between her hands, “Go on, guess.”  
Eidra smiled as she examined her wounded thumb, “A horse with no rider?”  
“No,”  
“A cat riding a donkey?”  
“No, Eidra...”  
“A horse riding a cat, then?” Eidra gingerly pulled the needle through the fabric of the sock she was mending, holding her thumb out of the way.  
“Now that's just silly. Stop yer fooling.”  
Eidra sighed, “I confess I have not the slightest idea.”  
Sally took her by the shoulder, “The dark stranger what manhandled ye, the one ye drove from the cottage and cold cocked on the head?”  
Eidra rolled her eyes to the ceiling, “Apparently I did not hit him near hard enough. What of him?”  
“Ye'll never guess who he was in company with.”  
Eidra set the sock upon her lap and rubbed her eyes, “Do tell me Sally, please, I grow tired of this game today.”  
Sally stood tall, hands on her hips, “I beg yer pardon, yer highness. I shan't trouble ye further,” she made to return to the storeroom where she'd been churning butter.  
“Sally,” Eidra called, “Do not leave me guessing.”  
At once Sally turned back, “I saw with me own eyes, the stranger riding abreast with none other than Christopher Wallace.”  
Eidra glanced at the front door of the cottage, expecting them to be standing there as if saying their names could conjure them forth. “Why do I sense that is a bad thing?”  
“As do I.”  
Eidra set her sewing on her basket and walked to one of the windows, looking up and down the road leading through the center of the village.   
“Where were they headed do you think?”  
Sally shrugged, “They kept going right through town. Maybe they decided to leave and I might finally have some peace.”  
Eidra snorted, “We shall sooner see pigs fly.”  
Sally laughed and Eidra gave her a thin smile which soon dwindled to a frown, “I fear I have not seen the last of that stranger.” 

 

As they waited, Loki gazed around the room. Whoever lived here was well to do. He would have assumed the man was of noble birth had he to venture a guess. Above the fireplace mantel hung a large painted portrait of a handsome man and a beautiful woman dressed in vibrant brocades and silks sitting before an open window, the scene behind them a bucolic landscape of rolling green hills and perfect sky dotted with clouds. The walls were painted the color of butter and the furniture surrounding them looked exceeding fine. A pair of wing back chairs matching the settee, faced them,. Behind the chairs stood a music stand with sheets of music upon it, a fiddle on its side holding the sheets upright on the stand.  
A large ornately carved cabinet, looking to be made of ebony, dominated half of the wall opposite the fireplace. The handles and workings were cast in gold and he had to admit a curiosity as to what secrets such a fine piece held.  
A tall man came sailing into the room, his hand outstretched to Chris.  
“Christopher, how fare ye?”  
Fin was beautiful, if a man could be called such. He had long red gold hair which he'd pulled back from his face with a wooden knotwork clip, his green eyes were like two brilliant emeralds. He had a fair complexion, a wide smile and a regal countenance. His robes were rich dark maroon velvet threaded with gold needlework. Loki felt like a poor peasant as he stood to shake Fin's hand.  
“And you brought a guest with you,” Fin raised an elegantly arched eyebrow, “How curious.”  
“His name is Loki,” Chris replied.  
Fin regarded him, “I must be left to wonder why does the dark prince of Asgard now stand in my cottage?”  
Chris turned to look at Loki then back to Fin, “You know him?”  
Fin smiled, “I know of him, I confess I have never met him, but I have heard tales.”  
He gestured for Loki and Chris to be seated again as he took one of the wing back chairs across from them, “So I ask again, what do one of the Aesir wish from Fin of the Sidhe?”  
“Aesir?” Chris stroked his beard.   
“My dear friend, learned though you may be in the kitchen, you are but a simple soul and for that do I love you. Loki hails from a city of gods.”   
Loki shifted in his seat, sent out a silent prayer that Fin would say nothing further about him.  
Chris gave a dismissive wave of his hand, “Ah that old chestnut. You know well my opinion on such things, Fin.”  
Fin slapped his elegant hands on his knees and laughed aloud, turned his attention to Loki. “Christopher is an enigma, a riddle, if you will, wrapped within an enigma. Here he sits on an enchanted island in a world inhabited by Sidhe, spirits, and all manner of enchantment. Yet, when confronted with a mage far more powerful than I, he still believes otherwise.”  
“I do not ken,” Loki glanced at Chris who had turned a bright scarlet.  
“Christopher is a Christian, he believes in one God. You shall have to ask him to let you see his holy book. He believes that one God made all this, ” Fin made a grand sweeping gesture with his arms, “I could tell him that a god now sits beside him but he will never believe in such things.”  
Chris shrugged, “ 'Tis my belief, do I chide you for yours, Fin?”  
Fin shook his head, “Ah but you do believe in me, do you not?”  
Chris crossed his arms before him, “That is neither here nor there. Would you have me disbelieve my own eyes?”  
“No, friend, I pray you will always believe in me though I will not pray to your god when I do. Now tell me Loki, why are you here?”  
Loki searched for a way to begin his tale but with gentle prodding from Chris, managed to tell of how he had lost Eidra, his madness, his despair, the fateful visit from Astrid which had launched him on his quest.  
“So you seek to right a wrong, to be reunited with Eidra. Is she not the woman who came to stay with Sally, Chris?”  
Chris nodded, “She is that.”  
“Well,” Fin sighed, “It is a bit complicated. When she wandered into the village, she was disoriented, as if she'd wakened from a dream. She did not know how she came to be here. Sally, a kindred soul for want of a better word, took her in. I knew right away that she dwelt between worlds, she was neither living nor dead. As it has always been with those of her kind, she possessed but half her soul, the other half contained somewhere, in an object, a jar or some other important item. This is a vital part of her restoration, for she can be restored. Now, having listened to your story, I have gleaned much more about her plight. I believe Freyr acted in error, that important matters were kept from him or he would have made every effort to sway the High Court's decision. Her death was an indignation, a rebuff to nature. A wrong must be righted.”   
Loki leaned forward on the settee, trembling, “Restored? Given life again? Pray tell me you do not jest.”  
Fin shook his head, his face solemn, “Your task is not an easy one. She must be reunited with her mortal remains”  
Loki stood then, “That is all I must do? Bring her mortal remains here?”  
Fin pursed his lips together, “No there is more, you cannot bring her remains here, she must go to where she lies, and she must go willingly, you cannot force her. The second part of the equation lies within the mortal world. For the circle to be complete, all elements must converge together.”  
Loki sat back down, heavy on the settee, “She is not the person I knew in life, she is..” he searched for the word.  
“Fiery?” Chris offered.  
“And more. She knows me not,” Loki looked at Fin, searching for the answer in his eyes.  
Fin sat back in the chair, templing his hands beneath his chin, “We are shaped by the experiences of our lives, we live by those beliefs, tenets, but when we come here to dwell, we are stripped to our essence. Were it not for her experience with you, she may have grown to be a proud, fierce woman, this is the person you see now.”  
“But why does she not know me?”   
“Her knowledge of you clearly lies with the other half of her soul. When she is made whole again then will she remember. But you must apologize for your abrupt first encounter and start anew.”  
Loki put his head in his hands, “How can I convince her to leave this island with me? What if she refuses to accept my apology? What if she does not believe what I say?”  
“Then you will have failed,” Fin stood from his chair, “Chris can tell you all about that though his predicament calls for something much different than yours,” Fin gave Loki a gentle smile, “Do not despair. Your lives are intertwined, you have found one another before, you will again. If not in this world then the next.”  
Chris made a cutting motion across his neck at Fin as he cocked his head toward Loki, “Ah never fear, my boy. All will be made right.”  
Fin nodded, “Indeed. If you can make her see the virtue in your heart, make her trust you, believe in you as she must have so long ago. If then she is willing to follow you from this world, come to me and I will give you the remaining piece of the puzzle, the piece that will close the circle.”  
Chris clapped Loki on the back, “ 'Twould seem you have your work cut out for you my boy.”


	5. 5

The ride back to Chris's cottage was a somber one.  
“How do I start anew with Eidra?” Loki rubbed the back of his neck,   
Chris stared at him, “Why I would suppose you woo her, boy. Court her.”  
“How?” Loki slapped the pommel of his saddle.  
“Good gracious, 'tis simple, my boy. Go to her door, knock on it. That is a beginning.”  
Loki was silent.  
Chris bit his lip, “You do have a choice, you know.”  
“What would that be?” he muttered.  
“You could return home and forget about her.”  
Loki twisted in his saddle to glare at him, “There is no choice. I will not return to Asgard alone.”  
When they reached the cottage, Chris led the horses into the small stable. “Grab the pitchfork boy, and toss them over some hay will you?”  
Loki took the pitchfork leaning against the paddock fence and dug it into the mound of hay beside it, “I do not know how to win her over.”  
Chris grunted as he leaned over and undid the strap beneath the horse's belly, “Then now would be a good time to learn. Get up tomorrow morning, clean shaven, well groomed, be on her doorstep early and offer to help her with chores.”  
Loki leaned on the paddock fence, “I have set before me an impossible task.”  
Chris handed one saddle over the fence to Loki, “Bah, 'tis not impossible though it will require no small measure of effort. You might also endeavor to acquaint yourself with the village people, win them over. It is sometimes hard to soldier on alone.”  
Chris pushed through the paddock gate with the other saddle in hand, “And be prepared to fail many times over before you win the day.”  
“I am not sure I shall.”  
“Neither am I but I say keep trying.”  
Loki shook his head, “First thing in the morning?”  
“Bright and early,” Chris chuckled.

 

Eidra squatted, shivering before the fireplace, working the coals over. She hated the cold drear of autumn. At the sound of horses hooves in the dooryard, she jumped up and walked to the door, opening it to find the stranger standing there smiling at her.  
She slammed the door shut.  
Sally trotted out of the storeroom, a milk pail in hand, “What was that?”  
Eidra stood, a hand at her mouth when the second knock came.   
Sally stared at her, “Eidra who is at the door?”  
Eidra shook her head.  
Sally clucked her tongue, “Very well, I'll open it then.”  
Sally swung the door wide, “Who is...”  
Loki sailed past her into the house where Eidra stood eyes narrowed, reaching for the fireplace poker.   
“Is it customary to be treated so rudely when visiting one's house?”  
“Only if one has been sent packing from the self same house once before,” Eidra's hand found the poker handle, tightening on it.  
Loki sighed, cleared his throat, “Eidra, I wish to apologize for my actions I have come to inform you that I am at your service,” he finished with a low bow.  
Sally stared bug-eyed at the two of them as Eidra drew the poker out of the stand, “If you be at my service, I require this of you, that your feet carry you from my doorstep with all due haste.”  
He forced his hands to remain limp, not to reach out, grab her by the bodice and shake her, “I am here to help you, to make amends for my actions.”  
She took a step towards him, hoping she looked more intimidating than she felt. “You have made your amends, I forgive you. Now if this be enough to ease your conscience, be gone from our house.”  
Loki looked down at the floor, “Eidra, please, I...” his hands flew to the top of his head as she raised the poker, “If you would only listen to me.”  
“I have done so. You have wasted enough of my time and if you do not leave, I will thrash you again, make no mistake,” She shook the poker for good measure.  
Loki heaved a great sigh, bowed once more, turned on his heel and walked out the door.  
Sally ran to the front window to see Loki standing by the side of his horse, forehead pressed against the side of the saddle, his eyes closed.  
“Ye were a bit harsh with him, Eidra.”   
Eidra put the poker back in its stand, “Maybe now he will ken that I wish him to stay away.”  
Sally stared into the bottom of the pail, “I thought it was polite of him to apologize.”  
“Yes,” She knelt down again before the fire, heard the clop of hooves grow faint, “and I accepted it. Now let us get on with the day.”  
Sally shrugged and walked out the door on her way to the barn, leaving Eidra to sink back on her heels, rubbing her temples, loathe to admit there was something vaguely familiar about him. She shook her head to clear the thought from her mind and picked up the fan to raise the flames.

 

That following morning, there came a knock on the door as Eidra was taking the milk pails from Sally to head to the barn. Sally gave her a wry smile.  
“It had better not be,” Eidra muttered.  
Sure enough, the stranger was standing there.  
“I did not introduce myself the morning past, forgive me again,” he bowed, “My name is Loki of Asgard.”  
She nearly dropped the pails to the floor.. She knew the name. She had heard her father speak of Asgard, of the princes, one fair and beautiful, one dark and cruel, though not being allowed at court, she had never laid eyes on them. There was no possible reason that the Dark Prince should be here on her doorstep, surely they could not be one and the same.  
“You hail from Asgard?”   
The stranger's eyes lit up, “Yes, do you remember it?”  
“I never traveled to Asgard,” Eidra snorted, “My father would not allow me to come with him on excursions. I was made to stay home.”  
“Eidra, you once lived there. Do you remember nothing?”  
The stranger was starting to talk nonsense again. She shoved her way past him and out the door, “We have had our introductions, now I bid you good day, I have much to do.”  
“You remember nothing?” he trotted behind her along the path to the barn, “Helgi? Silas? He is now a royal guard.”  
All at once, she whirled around, took the pail and threw it at him though she missed by some distance.   
“I have never set foot in the kingdom of Asgard and I never shall,” she roared, “You are out of your mind! Get away from me!”  
The stranger seemed to falter, she swore she could see tears standing in his eyes as she started for her milk pail.  
He bent down, picked up the pail and handed it to her. She took it from him, lightning quick, holding it before her like a shield, watching him head back up the short path without another word.   
“Loki, what a poor namesake to have.”

 

“You must keep at her.”  
Loki was sitting on the floor of Chris's cottage in front the fireplace, head between his knees, hands locked behind his neck, “It is futile.”  
“Most likely,” Chris stood behind him, put his hands underneath Loki's arms and hefted him up until his feet were beneath him, “But you must learn to accept the fact,” he gasped with the effort, “..that the only way to make this work is through perseverance and patience.” Chris steered him to the table and sat him in a chair  
Loki chuckled ruefully, “Perseverance I have aplenty, patience I am sorely lacking in.”  
Chris patted him on the shoulder, “And thus your lessons begin.”

 

So it was that each day, he would ride to the village to appear at her door with the dawn and each day she would rebuff him in a rather abrupt manner. Early one morning, she had risen late. When she opened the front door, Loki had fallen into the cottage. He'd sat upon the doorstep to wait for her to waken and had nodded off. After yelling at him for making her look like a fool in front of the whole village, she told him once again to leave, slamming the door shut only to find Sally doubled over with laughter.  
“I do not see the humor in this,” Eidra threw open the shutters to let the gray light into the room, peering outside to make certain he'd left.  
“Oh Eidra,” Sally cried, “Ye have a heart of stone! Take pity on him if he returns on the morrow.”  
“Pity? Why does he not pity me and leave me alone? Answer me that?” She snatched the broom beside the front door and began to sweep off the doorstep, “And you have little to say. Why do you not pity poor Christopher?”  
“He is an old fool. What do I want with an old fool?I would rather have a young man such as yers.”  
“Ah,” she pointed the broom handle at Sally, “but there is the rub, I do not have a young man. I have a dolt, a deaf dolt at that.”  
Sally took her cloak down from a peg by the door and hung the wide rimmed basket over her arm, “I am going to fetch eggs and pray to the gods to deliver that poor man from yer wrath.”

 

But the next morning, Sally's prayers seemed to have gone unanswered. He was there with an ever eager look in his eyes, waiting for Eidra just as she stepped out into a cold misting rain.   
“Pull your hood up, you look like a drowned rat.” She grumbled at him, a task he set to immediately.  
“You waste so much time each day pestering me, could it not be put to better use?”   
She set off with a rapid gait down the path from the cottage to the barn, Loki close behind her, encouraged that she had not at once rebuffed him as she had done for nearly half a fortnight. He stopped, silhouetted in the barn doorway, as she continued inside, “Let me help you, so my time shall be put to good use.”  
She turned to him then and thrust the pail into his hands, “Very well. Milk Corrine.”  
Loki gripped the pail tightly, “Who?”  
She gestured across the barn to a stall where stood a large Herefordshire cow who turned her head to regard them both with large brown eyes, her tail a-twitch. She approached Corrine and pulled a milking stool from the edge of the stall, seating it beside her left flank.   
“I do not know..” His words trailed off as he locked eyes with the cow who summarily dismissed him by returning to the bale of hay before her.  
“And now I must be teacher as well? Of what good are you as a helpmate if you know not how to do anything?”   
He frowned, petulant, “I had no reason to learn.”  
“Well faith you have need to now,” She waved at the short stool. “Sit down.”  
He sat on the stool, his long legs bent nearly to his chest, peering beneath the cow at the great udder hanging there. She shook her head.  
“Cross your legs at the ankles and let them relax or you shall never reach.”  
He did as he was told.  
“Now slide the pail beneath her udder, like that, yes.”   
He looked up at her, waiting, “What should I do next?”  
She rolled her eyes and knelt beside him in the hay, “Do you truly believe she shall hand you a cold pitcher of cream by herself? Wherever do you believe the milk comes from?” She pressed her cheek against Corrine's side and reached beneath her, finding two teats with her hands.  
“Now watch me. Use your thumb and first finger, squeeze the top of the teat and follow the motion all the way down with the rest of your fingers, it will force the milk down into the pail, not too tight, be gentle.”   
The milk began to stream into the pail with a deep watery hiss but he barely noticed. He was mesmerized by Eidra. It seemed as if not five season had gone by since he last looked upon her but a mere fraction of a moment. He could smell the wet wool of her cloak. Underneath it, the scent of her damp hair, her cornflower blue eyes trained on Corrine's head, cheeks flushed with effort and he had a maddening urge to wrap one chestnut curl of her hair around his finger, to feel the softness.  
“There now,” she leaned back on her heels and looked up at him, breaking his reverie, “You try it.” She stood and wiped her hands on her brown dress.  
“Try what?” He tilted his head.  
“What I just did,” she eyed him, trying to gauge if he was being serious,“You were paying attention, were you not?”   
Loki stared again at the udder hanging before him and nodded.  
“Then get to it, Brenna is next.”  
The name prickled at his subconscious and he paused.   
“You are no help at all,” Eidra chided him..   
He squared his shoulders then, leaned forward, craning his neck backwards to avoid touching the cow's side.   
“Lean your forehead against her or you will not be comfortable.”  
He pressed his brow to Corrine's side, reached beneath her, grabbed two teats and suddenly found himself backwards off the stool, the pail having been kicked to the other side of the stall by a startled Corrine.  
Eidra put her hands to her mouth, biting her tongue so hard it hurt. When he glanced up at her, indignation plain upon his face, she had to take a deep breath or burst out laughing.  
“Now,” she could hear the mirth in her own voice and it became harder to speak, she had to take another deep breath, “Get back up on the stool but do not touch her.”  
He uprighted the stool with a loud thud and reseated himself, “Ignorant cow.”  
She knelt back down beside him and took two teats in her hands, “Do not blame the cow for your ineptness. Now put your hands atop mine.”  
Loki's mouth felt dry, his palms began to sweat. Everything seemed to become brighter, louder. The soft rain on the thatch roof, the muted grinding as Corrine chewed her cud, Eidra's soft breathing.  
“Well come on, it is already full daylight.”  
He leaned forward, put his hands over hers and nearly lost his balance at the contact, so tender, so sorely missed. He managed to steady himself, finally, as her hands moved beneath his.   
“See, gentle tugs, firm enough to make the milk come. Do not grab them as a man would.”  
He chuckled at her jest and she slowly let go of the teats.   
“Now I shall grab the pail and reset it.”  
His heart was racing, his mouth set in a tight line as she repositioned the pail.  
“Go ahead, try it again,” her voice had become softer now. He leaned forward once more, bracing himself for Corrine's rebuttal but it never came. She side stepped a bit at the touch of his hands but otherwise was still. He started in downward strokes on her teats and at first nothing happened but on the third stroke, he heard the stream of milk hit the bottom of the pail and he smiled when Eidra clapped her hands, “Very good!”  
“But how shall I know when she is....empty?”  
“When no more milk comes out, then you switch teats until you are out of udder.”  
She watched him a moment more, “Do not forget poor Brenna, she is full.” She turned to exit the barn.   
“Where are you going?” He cried, glancing at her.  
She looked over her shoulder at him, “You wanted to help, then this is your chore. I shall be inside. You do not believe the only job I have to do all day is nursemaid such a greenhorn as yourself do you? ”  
He watched her disappear into the rain and sighed, looking up at Corrine as he leaned forward, “It would seem it is only you and I then.”

Sally was standing by the door when Eidra returned, “Where is he?”  
Eidra took off her cloak and hung it on one of the pegs by the door, “He is milking the cows.”  
“Woman's work, ye've got him doing woman's work?”  
Eidra nodded smugly, “Perhaps this shall put him off and he shall cease visiting us each morning.”  
Sally raised an eyebrow, “Or he shall enjoy it enough to continue.”

Loki brought her the full pail of milk after quite some time, bowed and departed. The following morning he was again at the door, holding out his hand for the pails, and the next after that. Unfailingly, he would milk the cows and leave.   
One morning as he rode through town, he observed that people were out and about the village unusually early. When he arrived at Eidra's cottage, he saw Eidra in the back yard hanging a pale blue dress out to dry. He knocked on the door, taking the pail Sally handed him with a nod, then walked around the back of the cottage to where Eidra was pinning up another dress onto the line hung from the cottage to the barn. He set the pail on the ground, reaching into the basket for another dress to hand to her but she swatted at his hands.  
“Leave me to my chore. I am well capable.”  
He retreated, watching her for a moment.  
“Everyone is busy today.”  
She nodded, “There is a reel and a feast tonight.”  
“Oh.”   
He hefted his pail and started for the barn.  
She took a handful of clothespins and another dress, biting her lip. The voice in her head fairly screamed at her, don't ask, but she felt it rude not to do so.   
“Are you going?” She called after him.  
“No.”   
She peeked around the dress she had just hung but he had already disappeared into the barn. She wanted to strangle him with the clothesline because his short answer had induced her to ask him why. She balled up the dress in her hand and flung it in the basket at her feet, striding into the barn to stop by his side as he milked Corrine.  
“Why?” Short and to the point.  
He didn't look at her, Why what?”  
He was baiting her and it irritated her to no end. She stomped her foot, “Why are you not attending the reel?  
She could see the ghost of a smile play about his lips, “I do not dance.”   
“Do you not know how?”  
He shifted position as he moved to another teat, “I knew how in Asgard. I have no knowledge of the dances here, however, and as I am a stranger, I prefer to stay at the cottage. Christopher shall be attending.”  
“Sally will be delighted to hear it. As you are still a stranger, do you not think it wise to be properly introduced into the community?”  
He was silent.  
“Well?”  
“A reel is not the place to do so.”  
“And when, pray tell, is the proper time?” She crossed her arms, watching him. He had become quite proficient at milking.  
“Why do you concern yourself with such things?”  
She clenched her hands upon her forearms, “I never said I was concerned. I was merely being polite.”  
Without another word, she spun around and tromped back to the clothesline, angry enough to kick the pail from in front of him. She hung the rest of her clothes on the line and returned to the house. When he came to the door with the milk pail, she made Sally get it from him, thus missing the smile he sent at her back as he bowed and left while she stood stirring sliced potatoes in a pan above the fire.


	6. 6

Chris had begged and cajoled Loki to join him that evening in town but to no avail and so Chris set out alone for the village.

Eidra pulled her hair back from her face with a silver clip as she stood before the looking glass beside her bed. She pinched her cheeks for a bit of color and smoothed the skirt of her dress. Stepping into her dark blue slippers, she walked out into the main room where Sally stood waiting for her. She was sporting a dress with dark red velvet skirt and a tight fitting crimson bodice. She had their cloaks in hand.  
“Oooh Eidra, ye positively take my breath away, yer so lovely.”  
Eidra shook her head but smiled, “You cut a fine figure yourself, dear but looks are not everything, mind you. In the village where I grew up, there were three sisters who outshone everyone. They had courtiers lined up each day to woo them.”  
“They must've married well,” Sally threw her cloak around her shoulders.  
“No, they were the thinking ones. They never married, at least they hadn't the last time I saw them.”  
There came a knock on the door. Eidra opened it to see Christopher standing in the doorway. She peered around behind him and Chris smirked.  
“If you seek Loki, he will not be attending tonight's festivities,” He bowed to them both.  
“And glad of it I am,” she stuck out her chin, agitated, “He pesters me endlessly, I need a rest from him.”   
Eidra whirled around, put her hand at Sally's back and thrust her toward Chris. “It would seem that tonight is your turn.”  
Sally scowled at Eidra as she turned to Chris, “What is it, ye old fool?”  
“I only wish to accompany the loveliest lady in the village to a reel,” he held out his hand. She was about to shove him out of the way when Eidra reached out and pinched her on the arm.   
“Now, Sally. Do not have a heart of stone, have pity on poor Chris.”  
Sally bristled at the mocking tone in Eidra's voice, sure Eidra was thoroughly enjoying this.  
“Very well,” she extended her elbow with a backwards glare at Eidra. He clapped his hands together and daintly wrapped his arm about hers.  
Eidra shut the door behind her and they began to walk down the village lane to the Guild Hall which was already bustling with people, alive with music by the time they arrived. Colum ran up to greet them.   
“Chris, where be yer lodger?”  
Chris waved at him, “Ah he felt a bit out of place coming this evening. There will be other reels to be sure.”  
Colum shook his head, “ 'Tis a pity, I had a bevy o' lasses waitin' on him.”  
Chris shrugged, “Tell them to keep waiting. One of these days he shall appear.”  
Colum scanned the room, “I hope so, I cannot keep them all entertained by meself.”  
“You usually do a fine job of trying, Colum,” Eidra snapped but Colum only grinned.  
“Thankee kindly, Ma'am.”  
He patted Chris on the shoulder and drifted back into the crowd. Chris spied Fin on the dais with his fiddle. Joining him with a second fiddle was Cormac, a burly fellow dressed in a bulging blue tunic and tight breeches with a shock of black hair and sparkling green eyes, he looked more suited to be wrestling with a giant tankard of mead than to be playing a fiddle with such sweet dexterity. Beside him, a thin fellow, Jaime, dressed in a too big green tunic and brightly colored kilt, with his long red hair, eyes so pale blue they seemed nearly white and a patch of whiskers on his chin, kept perfect time with a bodhrán. The middle of the hall was filled with couples dancing and laughing, the din wonderfully heady.   
Chris let loose of Sally and removed her cloak for her, draping it over his arm with his own. He held out his arm for Eidra's cloak, noticing she paid him no attention. She was scanning the room.  
“Eidra, shall I take your cloak and set it on a chair?” he watched as she drew her cloak from her shoulders, “Are you looking for someone special, my dear?”  
“I am looking for people I know. I am not looking for the dolt if that be your line of questioning. You said he would not be here.”  
Chris shrugged, “I did that, but I have found frequently that he does tend to change his mind.”  
Thereafter, he was pleased to note, she kept looking towards the door each time it opened so that her head seemed on a swivel.  
She accepted dances from Colum and Heath, even one from Chris though this only after Sally told Eidra that if she were to dance with him then Eidra must as well. She had to admit to herself that she was, if nothing else, fond of Chris. He did have an engaging manner and a pleasant attitude and she found herself relaxing as they waltzed about.  
“The boy talks about you incessantly,” he said, winking at her.  
“What of it?”  
“He is a fine temperate man, is he not?”  
Eidra let him twirl her around, “I know not. I seldom let him engage me in conversation. Ere I do, he begins to talk that nonsense before long. I simply have no patience for his insane ramblings.”  
“Perhaps you should hear him out, then he might stop talking of it.”  
“You think so?” she tilted her head.  
“Oh I have no idea, my dear, but is it not worth a try?”  
“You must hear it most often, I extend my condolences to you.” As the music ended, Eidra bowed to Chris,   
“Why, Eidra, I enjoy his company immensely,” Chris replied as he returned the bow in kind.  
Chris then turned to Sally and offered his hand, “Sally, my lovely lady, may I have the pleasure of this next dance?”  
Sally rolled her eyes at him, “If it will please you enough to leave off me for a bit.”

Eidra smiled as she watched them sweep across the dance floor. Perhaps Chris was right. If she let Loki explain himself he would be satisfied, maybe he would even give up his maddening campaign. She would have to think on it.

The next day, Eidra waited in vain for him to arrive. She sat in the barn, milking Corrine, curious as to why he had stayed away, deciding she would ask him the next day. However, he failed to show up the next day as well as the day after that. And so it went for nearly two weeks. In the back of her mind, she wondered whether he'd fallen ill or had given up and returned home to Asgard. She had seen Chris a time or two in town but he did not stop to speak with her and she refused to ask after Loki lest Chris mistake her curiosity as interest. Sally mentioned Loki's absence one evening as they sat before the fire talking and knitting.  
“So he seems to have given up after all, has he?” Sally looked to her.  
Eidra kept knitting for a minute, seeming to gauge her answer, “Whom are you talking about?”  
“Oh Eidra, ye know perfectly well who. Loki.”  
She pulled a length of yarn loose from the ball in the basket beside her chair, “It would seem.”  
“ 'Tis sad. He was a nice enough lad,” Sally repositioned her work, “If ye like I shall ask Chris if he has moved on.”  
“No, Sal, I do not care whither he has gone.”  
Sally stopped knitting, stared into the fire, “He has probably gone home, if he be wise,” She sat back in her rocking chair and resumed knitting, “Next week is the feast of Samhain, we have to bring Robert to the butcher.”  
“I do not ken why you gave the pig a name in the first place. 'Twill be like offing one of the family and I've not the heart to do it. We could always fetch Christopher to do the chore,” Eidra half-teased her.  
“Good Gods, no. Though Loki would have to come to help him. If he hasn't moved on, that is.”  
Sally grinned as Eidra pursed her lips, “Perhaps not then,” She glanced at Sally, “Do you think he has indeed left?”  
She shrugged, “There be but one way to find out. Go visit Chris.”  
Eidra shook her head, “I told you, I really could care less where he is.”  
“Ah, so you did. Forgive me, I'll not say anything more about him.”  
Sally cast one last look at her then. She was staring into the firelight, her brow furrowed, a frown on her face.

A few days later, Eidra finally saw him again, though not on her doorstep. She had gotten up that morning, done her chores, wrapped a few cold boiled potatoes and a piece of cheese in muslin, packed them in a basket with a number of good sized apples from the community orchard behind their cottage. She had then set out for her friend Siobhan's cottage on the outskirts of town. Siobhan and her two children had come to the island during a plague that her husband had survived. Eidra would sit with her, help her spin yarn or sew and listen to her laments. It oftimes grew almost too heartbreaking for her to bear but it always made Siobhan feel so much better so she endured the bouts of melancholy. Today, she was going to help Siobhan finish a dress for the traditional lighting of the bonfire on Samhain.  
At the edge of town, she spied two men talking, one on foot, the other on a horse. As she neared the two, she realized the man on foot was Colum, the man on the horse, Loki. She nodded to them both as she passed. A moment later, she heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching from behind her at a canter. She veered to the side of the road, stopped walking and turned to face the rider, sure it was him, which it was However, he only nodded a greeting, keeping at a canter as he passed by, leaving her at the side of the road open mouthed in shock. She turned, watched him move further away and in a fit of pique, shouted, “Loki!”   
When he kept going, she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted again, “LOKI!”  
She saw him rein in his horse and look back at her, making no move to return. She sighed, hoped it was loud enough for him to hear and started to walk towards him. He kept still, waiting until she reached him, winded.  
“Where have you been?” She gasped, pushing a stray wisp of hair from her face.  
“I have been helping Chris to put up the pig he slaughtered.”  
She regarded him curiously, “It does not take half a fortnight to put up a pig. I thought you had forgotten about Corrine.”   
She felt her cheeks start to burn. She had come close to saying “me” but managed to to stop herself in time.  
Loki leaned forward on the pommel, “I did not. She and I became fast friends,” his blue-green eyes seemed to look into her soul.  
She focused upon the horses hooves for something to fix her gaze on, “Then you shall be visiting her again soon?”  
Whether she asked for herself or had become used to having someone else do her chore for her, he couldn't tell and his exasperation grew. Chris had been right; he had said she would notice if he stopped coming over. Now, however, he was more unsure of where he stood, feeling certain that he had been played, no matter how unintentional it had been and he couldn't stop the bitter words from rolling off his tongue.  
“You had a respite from your chore. Thusly I have learned to milk a cow. I have also discovered what it is like to be looked on merely as a servant. It has been enlightening to say the least. Nevertheless, I believe I have learned a valuable lesson. If you will excuse me, I have kept Chris waiting long enough.”  
He turned his horse, nodded to her again, gave the reins a tap and was off at a trot up the road.  
Eidra stood there, angrier than she could ever remember, her face scarlet. All at once she bent down, picked up a stone and threw it as hard as she could at him though it only made half the distance before dropping to the dirt in the road with a dull thud.  
“Then I suppose I am well shed of you, good day!” she yelled after him, nails digging into her palms. She stood there until he had disappeared far down the road before continuing on to Siobhans cottage. She would need an especially strong countenance today to listen with an open heart to the poor woman's stories.

 

He rode along, his hands tight on the reins. When he was sure she was far behind him, he dismounted and sat by the side of the road, head in his hands. He had wanted to take the basket from her, give her his horse to ride, talk to her, touch her face. Instead he had held firm, doing his best not to allow her to belittle him. He was now in a particularly black mood, his head had started to ache for good measure..   
Colum had invited him to the village the day before Samhain to join in a caid match. When he had confessed that he had never heard of such a game, Colum had told him not to worry, reassuring him he would be fine, that he would show him what to do. Now he was not sure he wanted to return to the village at all. He mounted his horse again. Perhaps when he returned to the cottage, he would convince Chris to go out for a hunt. He needed the primal, visceral feel of stalking his prey. The kill, the dressing of the game. Unbidden, a memory of hunting with Thor sprang to his mind and his throat burned as he spurred the horse into a gallop.


	7. 7

The field just outside the village near Fin's cottage had been spaced off for the caid match. Loki and Chris made their way through the crowd that had gathered to watch the match, Loki keeping an eye out for Eidra.  
“Loki! Come on,” Colum called, grabbing him by the arm, guiding him away.  
“Hold, Col,” Loki turned to Chris, drew the Uruz from around his neck and pressed it into Chris's hand.   
“Take care of this for me, it is my most precious possession.”  
Chris nodded as Loki let himself be led into the center of a group of men standing at the far end of the field.  
“Men this is Loki, he's an outlander and likely to get broken,” Colum patted Loki on the back as the men nodded to him, “Now we don't want to have to welcome him here formally so go easy will ye?”   
Loki looked at himself frowning. He'd spied a few men in the group equal in size to Thor. Were he to come up against them, he might have a problem however since arriving here on the island, doing more physical labor, he had filled out a bit more, worked muscles he'd forgotten he'd had. At least now there was a bit more of him to contend with.  
As Colum explained the rules of the game, he handed Loki a red colored sash which he draped across his chest. Loki was happy to see Colum too had donned a red sash. Finally the teams had been divided and the men headed onto the field.

The match was well underway when Eidra and Sally reached the edge of the playing field.   
Eidra sidled in beside Siobhan who had procured a spot along the edge of the playing field.   
“How fares it?” she shouted in Siobhan's ear above the din of the crowd as she watched the men running toward the opposite end of the field.   
“It fares well dependin' on whose side yer on,” Siobhan smiled. Eidra felt a head bump into her belly and arms wrap around her legs. She put a hand down upon Siobhan's youngest child's head and ruffled her hair.  
“Where's Sean?”  
“Ah 'e wandered off with Brian, I warned 'em to take a care.” Siobhan shielded her brow against the rare sun. “They shouldn't be far off.”  
Eidra scanned the field, spotting Cormac and Colum heading toward the near end of the field to the goal on a dead run. Everyone was spattered with so much mud, the earth fair saturated with the recent rain, it was a wonder any of the men managed to stay upright. The din from the crowd grew louder as they neared the goal posts.  
She picked up little Mary so she could see above the crowd and began to shout along with everyone else. Sally grabbed her arm and shook it, “Looka Cormac...such a fine specimen!”  
A goal was counted and the boys came together in a roar, repositioning themselves on the field.   
Eidra looked the team over and saw Jaime as well, laughing and clasping the forearm of one of his teammates who then turned his head to scan the crowd.   
“Oooh Eidra, 'tis Loki!” Sally cried.   
Eidra put her free hand to her chest as Loki caught sight of her, gave a broad smile which lit up his mud splattered face and the boys were off and running again.  
“Looka him go!” Sally shoved Eidra's arm but Eidra's attention was now focused on Loki. He was agile, graceful as he moved about the field, passing the leather wrapped ball, running interference. Mary leaned over to her mother and Siobhan took her from Eidra who was now caught up in the excitement of the match, clapping and shouting. Colum and Loki collided once, both missing the ball, giving the other team an advantage until the game was temporarily stopped by a commotion down the field. Eidra stretched out over the rope demarcating the playing field to see what had happened, moving a bit further upfield. She heard the shouts,   
“Cormac 'as rolled 'is ankle!” came the call.   
Two players lifted the burly man up, carrying him off the playing field. She could see his hands curled into fists, his teeth clenched in pain but he made not a sound. Colum called to Loki and pointed him to another spot on the field as the game began again.  
Two goals later, she could see exhaustion clearly written on the men's faces, pure adrenaline likely fueling their relentless play. Loki had the ball again, sliding sideways between two large opponents to rush towards the goal. He slipped in the mud but regained his footing just before one of the men tackled him from the right, catching him around his waist and plowing his head into Loki's side. That was all it took to take him off his feet as he was driven to the ground hard.   
Colum shouted “Hold!” as he saw Loki go down. Eidra could see little except for the two players still on the ground in the field, the opponent sitting upright, holding his shoulder, Loki on his hands and knees, wet hair plastered to his face.   
Finally, both men rose to their feet amidst a rousing cheer but Loki was being supported between two teammates as they took him from the field.   
“Ah Loki's out of play, 'twould seem, Eidra..,” Sally turned her head to where Eidra had been, “Eidra?”

She pushed her way through the throng of people until she saw where they had taken him. He was sitting on the step of a wagon and a young man with bright copper hair, a physician by the name of Gorm, newly arrived in the village but two weeks past, was standing in front of Loki who looked milk pale, enhanced no doubt by the mud covering his clothes and a good bit of his exposed skin. She stood back,watching them.  
“Take his tunic off, gently, mind ye.” Gorm said to Colum.  
Loki raised his arms gingerly, his teeth set in a grimace of agony. He was breathing hard but shallow.   
“It feels like daggers, gods!” Loki rasped. The tunic lifted, she could see dark black and blue bruises where he'd been hit, the largest ones blooming fresh across his rib cage. It was then that she noticed a large scar running diagonally across his chest from his right shoulder blade to just under his breastbone on the left. It seemed about the width of her pinky. It was not the only scar on his body but it seemed to be the largest by far. She was burning with curiosity as to how he had gotten such a gruesome injury but held her tongue, watched Gorm feel about Loki's side until he yelped.  
“Ye seem to have cracked a rib or two. Yer out of the game for the duration.”   
“Damn!” Colum cried but he patted Loki on the arm, nodded as he sped off back to the field. Loki leaned forward, holding himself stiff as he wiped the mud from his face. She lingered a moment longer then turned and wound her way back through the crowd to find Sally. The last thing she wanted was for him to see she had been standing there, staring at him. She searched the crowd, looking for Sally and Siobhan.

Loki had wondered if she was going to approach him when he saw her out the corner of his eye, a few deep in the crowd surrounding him, then Gorm had drawn his attention back to his bruised ribs and when he looked again for her, she'd disappeared. He groaned and sat back, leaning at the edge of the wagon. Chris came over to him and clapped him on the knee.   
“Fine work out there, lad. Pity you had to give up the ship when the tide was turning,”  
Chris took Loki's arm, easing him down from the wagon, “Come on, let's get you home and washed up.”  
They headed away from the crowd toward the community paddock to fetch the horses. Loki kept turning about to scan the spectators.  
“Don't strain yourself, my boy. You'll do more damage than is already done,” Chris chided him.  
“She was there,” Loki said as Chris undid the paddock gate and strode up to the horses.  
“So she was, I saw her meself.” Chris called to him, “She went straight away to see if you were hurt.”  
Loki nodded, “But said not a word to me, she stayed well away.”  
“Baby steps, lad, baby steps,” he watched Loki slowly pull himself up on the horse before he mounted his own steed, “Let us be off. You are in dire need of repair.”

 

Eidra shoveled the coals from the hearth and buried them in a hole outside in the yard to smother them. Then she and Sally built up the new pile of wood in the fireplace leaving it, ready to be lit from the two communal bonfires that were now being made in the center of the village. She grabbed her cloak from the peg by the door.  
“Sally!” Eidra shouted, “I shall fetch Corrine, you may take Brenna. Hurry, people are already gathering. I do not wish to be late.”   
“Nearly there!” Came the call from Sally's bedchamber.  
Eidra opened the door and peered out into the waning daylight. She caught sight of Colum, though it was a wonder, he was covered in a white ragged robe, his face streaked with stripes of black soot.  
“Colum!” she called to him.  
“Eidra, what might I help ye with?” he trotted over to her doorstep, leaning against the door frame casually..  
“Nothing, I wondered....,” she hesitated,  
“I often wonder though there's sure to be something I'm wonderin' about.”   
“I wondered who won the game,” she finished.  
“Ye didn't stay for the end? Why we did, a' course.”  
“C'mon Col!” came a yell from the road. It was Cormac, a crutch beneath one arm, his injured ankle held in the air, “Get on with it, ye can flirt later.”  
Colum rolled his eyes and smiled, “I'll see ye there then. I'm called away,” she watched him go, then headed out to the barn.

Eidra led a reluctant Corrine into the village street with Sally and Brenna close behind. As they neared the center of the village, she could see the two bonfire piles waiting to be lit. Fin was holding the torch and speaking to the throng of people gathered around.   
“We honor our ancestors,” he nodded to the crowd, “And thank them for the bountiful harvest each year. Now we dispel the darkness and unite our village in the warmth of fire and friendship.”  
Fin set the torch first to one pile which began to blaze, then the other, and stood back while the people around them cheered.

Loki stood with Chris, his hand on the older man's shoulder to steady himself. He was in pain, a goodly deal of it but he had insisted upon going with Chris even though he'd purged twice on the way home from the game. The agony in his side had turned his stomach, the pain magnified ten times over as he heaved, blacking out once. He'd been caught by a diligent Chris before he met the ground.   
Still, he had stripped his muddy clothes from him, lain down on the cot and slept for an hour before he arose again, the pain subsiding enough for him to wash up and put on a fresh change of garments.  
Riding his horse had been a necessary evil but the jolt of its step finally overtook him and he had walked his horse the last half league to the village while Chris rode slowly alongside him.  
“I know Bettina would have gone bawling into the night if we'd tried to bring her here,” Chris muttered.   
Bettina, his milk cow, had in fact, stayed far across the pasture. When she saw him coming towards her, she had trotted further away. Being usually tractable, he was sure she knew what was up.  
“Besides, I wasn't about to chase her around the field either. We'll throw a burning stick at her when we get home and call her purified.”  
Loki smiled, “The lighting of the bonfires in Asgard have much the same meaning though we light them in the spring to celebrate the return of summer and longer days. It is also the end of the wild hunt.”  
Jaime floated up to them in a white robe, grinning, “I see we did no' speed you to yer afterlife this afternoon.”  
“Ah no, I survived, sadly.”  
Jaime roared with laughter, then taking his fingers, he rubbed them over the stripes on his face and transferred them to Loki's cheeks, “There now yer properly made up.”   
He did the same again only this time to Chris's cheeks, “I'll see ye at the guild hall then?”  
“Of course lad,” Chris cried, patting his large belly, “Have I ever missed a feasting?”  
“Sure and anyone can see ye've not missed a meal yer entire life,”Jaime laughed again and with a wave, trotted off towards the bonfires.   
When they passed Eidra's cottage, it was dark.  
“They must be up here, boy. Waiting with their cattle.”  
The heat of the bonfires could be felt yards away, the lowing of cows filled the air as they were driven or led between the great towering blazes to purify them in heat and light. He spied Eidra and Sally in line to take the walk next and he took the opportunity that the bustle of activity afforded him to gaze at her. She wore a dark green shift and had pulled her chestnut hair back from her face, tying it up in a loose chignon. He recalled many a time he had freed her hair only to watch the curls tumble down to her shoulders. She leaned over to Sally and whispered something in her ear, then turned to look about the crowd until Sally tugged at her arm and they walked between the fires, Corrine sending up a nervous bellow, Brenna ambling along without a sound.   
Once on the other side of the bonfires, he lost sight of them.   
“Come lad, let us away to the hall now,” Chris urged him along, “That's where the frivolity will be.”  
After another cursory glance about, Loki followed Chris toward the candlelit Guild Hall at the other end of town.

 

Eidra drew a small torch from a sack around Corrine's neck and lit it from the bonfire then they led the cows away from the square back to their cottage.

Eidra watched the logs in the fireplace blaze to life, tossing the torch in to join the rest of the wood, then she walked to the window. She'd carved a turnip out that morning, now she turned it in to face the room.   
“We shall light these when we return.”  
She moved to the cupboards, opened one and took out a muslin wrapped loaf of bread. “We have to get to the hall.”  
Sally nodded, “I am ready when ye are.”

Eidra saw Loki as soon as she walked into the hall. He and Cormac were surrounded by their teammates from that afternoon and they were all talking and laughing. She noted how stiffly he held himself, smiling more often than laughing. Sally tapped her on the shoulder as she stood just inside the doorway, “Yer blocking the way in, Eidra.”  
She scuttled out of the way and Sally bumped her with her elbow, “Why do ye not go ask him how he is?”  
Eidra frowned, “For what reason. He is obviously fine or he would not be here.”  
“Woman, ye do have a heart of stone...” Sally took the loaf of bread from her and headed for the tables already groaning with food.  
She started to follow Sally then stopped and stamped her foot, drawing strange looks from the people surrounding her. She most definitely did not want to approach him when he was surrounded by half the men in the village but there wasn't much for it. She could only hope they would disperse by the time she reached him. She took a deep breath and started to make her way through the revelers.

 

He closed his eyes for a minute, taking shallow breaths. Chris had hesitated to leave him by himself but Loki had waved him off, “Go stuff yourself, my friend, I shall be along,” and so Chris had wandered over to the long tables.  
Eidra cleared her throat, waiting until he opened his eyes. He seemed surprised to see her. She searched for words, finally finding them though they sounded foreign to her, “You did well at the game today.”  
He smiled, bowed slightly, winced, “Thank you, I was enjoying myself until I took Shane's head to my ribs.”   
She looked down at her shoes, “Have you ever played caid?”  
“No, but we have similar games in Asgard.”  
He had moved closer to her to let people pass behind him and she found herself staring at his boots. Curiosity finally won out and in a quiet voice she asked, “What terrible accident gave you that large scar across your chest?”   
She started to redden then, realizing that he would know she had been there when he'd been injured.  
He didn't answer at first and she raised her eyes, realizing he was closer than she wished him to be. She backed up and waited for him to reply.   
“I received the scar in battle with the Dökkálfar when we aided Freyr in a border dispute.”  
She tilted her head, “I do not recall any border disputes in my lifetime. It must have been after I came here. Tell me, did we win?”  
Loki bit his lip, “Yes.”  
“Ah that is good to know. Tell me, did you know my father, Eldan?”  
He felt like screaming.  
“Not very well, I did meet him a few times,” he gave her a gentle smile which she returned though it faded swiftly as she read his face.  
“Loki, speak your mind. There is little you have said to me in the past that would shock me now.”  
He started to speak, stopped, sighed, “You were with me when I received the scar. You saved my life.”  
Eidra shook her head, “I am no warrior.”  
“I never said you were in battle with me. You were in my tent as my servant.”   
All at once, Eidra giggled, her eyes narrowed at him, “Again, you have taken me by surprise. I have ever only served in my father's house. Why would I serve a....,” She struggled for a word, “a peasant the likes of you?”  
“You asked me to speak my mind and I have done so.”  
“Then the fault is mine, excuse me,” she gave a slight bow andstarted to walk away.  
“Please do not go,” he pleaded, “Let me bask just a bit longer in the sunlight of your company, I promise I will say nothing more of the past...of anything.”  
She kept her gaze at the floor, “I have to help Sally.”  
Before he could protest further, she had slipped into the crowd. 

She felt angry, but far more than that, upset, scared. When Loki had told her where the scar came from, an image had flashed in her mind of a small field tent, flickering torchlight. An old man bent over someone laying on a cot, her brother Danar beside him. It felt horribly real, frightening, not because of what she had seen but that there could be the merest hint of truth in what he was saying. How could she forget something so very serious as a battle with the Dokkalfari? Being a servant for someone like him. She gazed about the hall again. As she helped the women with the food, she kept an eye out for Loki but he stayed absent the rest of the evening.   
When people began to leave the hall, heading for their homes, she spied Chris and called to him. He bowed low to her, “What does Miady wish with me?”  
“I have not seen Loki since we spoke earlier.”  
Chris shrugged, “He took me aside and told me he was in a great deal of pain. He said he would meet me at the cottage.”  
Eidra put her hand on Chris's arm, “Tell him I am sorry, will you? He will ken your meaning.”  
Chris patted her hand, “Whatever you did to him, I'm sure 'tis all forgiven, however, I shall convey your apologies, Madam.”

 

Eidra sat alone by the fireplace that evening. Sally had long retired to her bedchamber and Eidra could hear her soft snoring as she rocked in the rocking chair, her thoughts far away to her family still in Alfheim. They would be spared for many years from this place, the gods willing. She stared into the firelight, trying again to recall how she had passed from the realm of Alfheim to Tir Na Nog.   
Siobhan knew the exact date and day of her passing, Colum, Jaime too. She was so frustrated. It had occurred to her that perhaps Loki would know how she'd passed on and that irked her greatly. Had she really forgotten a large chunk of her life? Was it possible? She wrapped her shawl tight around her, banked the fire and retired to her own bedchamber, burrowing under the heavy quilt that lay atop her bed, forcing the thoughts from her mind as sleep overtook her.


	8. 8

Three days after the feast of Samhain, there came a knock on Eidra's door. The sun had just tipped the horizon. She wrapped her shawl around her and opened the door to find Loki watching the sunrise, the hood of his cloak obscuring his face. “I have come to visit Corrine. Have you her pail?”  
Eidra reached down where the pail sat beside the door and handed it up to him. He nodded to her and headed around the cottage to the barn.   
“Yer kidding.” Sally piped up from her bedchamber doorway.   
“Quite obviously not.”  
Sally threw her cloak around her shoulders and grabbed a basket by the fire. “I am going to fetch eggs and salt pork out of the cold cellar. I'll cook the poor man a proper morning meal.”  
“He has likely already eaten,” Eidra had started to close the door but Sally took it from her hand, stopping at the doorway.  
“ 'Tis proper hospitality to offer the man a bit to eat for all he's done. He'd starve waiting for ye to offer, 'tis sure I am of it.”  
Eidra choked back a reply and went about tending the fire, the rain outside keeping a steady drizzle, the damp cold permeating the house.  
Soon enough, Sally was back inside with her basket, “His side still aches terribly.”  
Eidra turned to the cupboard, taking down a mug, “I will make the poor dolt some willow tea. It should help the pain.”  
Sally clapped her hands, “Very good! 'Twill warm him as well. The rain probably has him cold through to the bone.”

By the time Loki came to the front door with the milk pail, the water for the tea was on the boil. He handed the milk pail to Eidra but before he could turn to leave, she stepped away from the door and guided him into the cottage. He eyed her warily as she sat him down at a small table.  
“I have something for you.”   
He looked at the empty mug before him, “Poison?”  
“Honestly, do I have the look of a murderess?”  
She was taking a small white jar down from a shelf near the fireplace and so didn't see him nod though Sally did, giggling behind her hand.  
Eidra took a small piece of muslin and a short length of string from the shelf. Opening the jar, she shook out some dried pieces of willow bark, dropping them onto the cloth. She then tied the muslin into a little parcel and set it in the mug. Wrapping the hem of her apron around the handle of the kettle, she brought it to the table and filled the mug with water.   
“Now let it steep for a few minutes. We are going to make the morning meal.”  
He stared into the water, “What was it you put in the cloth?”   
“Willow bark, it will help relieve your pain. Would you like honey in it?”   
Sally was having all she could do to hold her laughter in at Loki's expression.  
“Please.”  
Eidra sat a small pot of honey on the table before him, “Brenna is going to calve soon did you see?”  
“I confess I did not. I am not well versed in animal husbandry.”   
He cupped his hands around the mug to warm his fingers. While Eidra worked at the fireplace, stirring the eggs in a pan over the fire, Loki looked around the room. The first thing he focused on was a ball of yarn with two needles stuck in it and a project hanging from them.  
“You still....you knit.”  
Eidra nodded, “It is soothing. Lets my mind wander,” she turned, took the spoon from beside his mug and fished out the little packet, setting it aside. “Now add some honey and drink it, it will not help on the outside.”  
Sally set the table for the morning meal, noting how Loki seemed unwilling even to touch the plate before him.   
“ 'Tis alright,” she whispered.  
Eidra carried the pan to the table and set it in the center on a trivet, serving first Loki, then Sally and finally herself before she sat down with them.  
“Ah, Eidra you forgot the cider.” Sally rose from the table to get the jug and two mugs for them.  
“Sorry,” She kept her eyes on her plate, “How is the tea?”  
“It is fine, warms me.”  
“Tell me what was your profession in Asgard?” Eidra asked as they started to eat.  
Loki searched his mind, what could he tell her? Should he lie? Should he tell the truth and be thrown from the house yet again? He did what he could to buy time, took a sip of the tea, a forkful of eggs until he bordered on rudeness.   
“I worked in the palace.”   
“I see. You have my sympathy. My father said the Aesir were a difficult sort,” She seemed to relax a bit more.   
“They were, especially the blond oaf.”  
“The crown prince? I have heard tell that he was arrogant, stubborn.”  
“Arrogant, stubborn, heartless.”  
Eidra leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table, “It stands to reason. Those in power are often poisoned by it. I hear the prince regent was much worse. Why were you named after such a cruel man?”  
He was having all he could do to keep his seat, “How do you know of his cruelty if ,as you say, you never met him?”  
Eidra shrugged, “Why would I have reason to doubt my father's word?”  
Loki nodded, “Of course, forgive me.”  
She waved her hand, “It is not your fault, you did not know. My father was on the High Court in Alfheim. He was the holder of the Sacred cup of Volundr.”  
“And you claim never to have been to court, with your father in such a high position?”   
It was Eidra's turn to search for an answer, “I was half Alfari half human. I was..” Her voice trailed off.  
“Eidra?” Sally put her hand on Eidra's shoulder.  
“I was a servant,” she finished, “I had no place of honor in my father's home.”   
She stood and took her plate to a wooden washtub beside the fireplace.   
“You had a place, do not doubt it,” Sally murmured.  
Eidra gave a dry laugh, “It matters not. My life was quiet, just as I liked it.”  
Loki stood as well, handing his mug and plate to her outstretched hands.   
“I must take my leave of you. I told Chris I would not be long, we would replenish the firewood in the cottage and he is in no shape for such hard tasks alone,” he bowed, “I thank you for the tea and the fine fare.”  
“You should not be stacking firewood with your ribs in such a state, perhaps I should come with you to help.”   
She made to grab her cloak as Loki stole a glance at Sally who seemed to be trying to make herself invisible. He opened the door then and Eidra followed him out onto the doorstep but he held up his hand. The rain had ceased but it was still bitterly cold.   
“I would not have you out about in weather like this. I will be fine.”  
She wrapped her arms around herself, “Loki, perhaps....”  
He waited for her to speak again.  
“Perhaps you were mistaken about me. Perhaps I am not the person you thought I was. Is it not possible?”  
“Why?”   
“Why, what?”  
“Is it easier to believe I made a mistake?”  
She nodded, “Easier than believing. Does this make sense?”  
Loki stared at her, driving from his mind, with a relentless fervor, the urge to kiss her. “To you, perhaps, however, it leaves us at a crossroad.”  
Eidra shivered, “How so?”  
“I cannot move forward nor can I make you move back.”  
“Can we not stay still?”  
Loki stepped into the yard. “It seems we must for now.”  
He'd started to untie his horse when she called to him again, “Loki, will you visit us tomorrow?”  
“If you wish,” he hid his smile beneath his hood,  
“I do,” she murmured. He glanced up to see her, only catching the hem of her dress as it slipped into the house behind her and his smile grew. He was finally moving in the right direction.

 

 

That evening, he lay on his cot, Chris on his bed as they talked back and forth waiting for sleep to come.   
“So this is an acceptable development, I am to assume?” Chris fluffed his down pillow.  
“It is. She asked if I was returning on the morrow, what more could I ask for?” His eyes were closed, his thoughts starting to drift, “Except a miracle.”  
“Ah now, use miracles sparingly, for there may come a time when one is truly needed.”  
Loki's mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile, “One is all I have need of,” and he was asleep.

 

As winter deepened, he continued to visit Eidra, his visits becoming longer until he would often stay from dawn to nearly dusk, racing the rays of the sun to make it to Chris's cottage before nightfall. It was on one such a day as they were walking back from the barn that they spied Jaime in front of the cottage talking to Sally.   
“Ah Loki, I wanted to bid the village farewell. I've been called.,” he declared as they clasped forearms.   
“Where are you headed, Jaime?” Loki looked about them as they laughed.  
“Why I continue me journey, resurrection, rebirth, call it what ye will. I walk out of this village to return again some long day in the future.”  
When Loki seemed confused, Jaime chuckled, “Reborn? In the body of another? All the souls here have a chance to continue on in the mortal world. 'Cept those between worlds like me lovlies here,” he waved to Eidra and Sally. “They seem to be waiting, for what I know not.”  
Sally nodded, “'Tis true, mayhap we are cursed.”  
Loki noticed Eidra had kept curiously quiet upon the subject.  
Jaime squinted up at the sun, “I must be off, the time grows late.”  
“I'll see ye to the edge of the village, Jaime,” Sally took his arm.  
“Sure and 'tis sweet of you, lass.”   
With a nod, they started off down the road leaving Eidra and Loki in the dooryard.  
“Eidra? Are you well?” Loki had raised his hand to touch her shoulder but he feared seeming too familiar so he dropped his arm back to his side as they retreated back into the cottage.   
“I am well.” She walked to her rocking chair by the fire, sat down and started to move the logs with the poker to stoke the fire.  
“Forgive me if I do not believe you,” Loki sat in Sally's chair.  
“Of course you do not, I must always have some reason for acting the way I do. You will now say I was prone to melancholy in the past, I am sure.”  
“I said nothing about your past. You seemed upset when we talked to Jaime about leaving.”  
“I will miss the lad. He is a fine man,” she jabbed a log, shoving it to one side.  
“It was not the subject he touched upon?”  
She glanced up at Loki, “Why is it that you will not accept my reasoning?”  
“Very well,” he stood, “I shall leave you to your thoughts.”  
He was at the door when she said, “I do not remember how I came here.”  
“How so?” Loki turned to face her.  
“Neither Sally nor I remember how we passed from the mortal realm into this world of spirits. Fin said it is because we are between worlds. If that was the case, why are we here? Are we not dead? Is there a chance for our own redemption?”  
Loki found he was trembling. Could he make her see the truth now? “I believe there is.”  
He knelt down beside her rocking chair as she regarded him cautiously.  
“I know how you came to be here.”  
“Oh Loki,” she sighed, “Not today, I cannot brook any nonsense.”  
“Everything I tell you, I try to tell you of your past, you disregard,” he growled, suddenly beyond frustrated. He stood again, strode to the door, “It frightens you and so you choose instead to ignore it.”  
He heard the poker drop to the hearth and she was suddenly between him and the door.  
“Would it not frighten you if you found yourself here? If you watched others move on yet you seemed destined to stay on in this world...if you had visions of...memories you can't recall?”  
She swiped at her cheek, staring at her slippers, trying to stop the tears that had welled from her eyes.  
“I want to know and yet I cannot imagine a past I cannot remember. I feel so lost.”   
He knew he was risking permanent banishment from her cottage yet he had to, he needed to touch her, to soothe her. As his arms slid around her shoulders, he felt her stiffen, then relax, her arms folded against his chest, her head coming to rest on his collarbone. He hugged her tightly, not daring to speak yet.  
She sniffed then, cuddling closer to him, “Will you give me time?”  
He leaned back, his voice hoarse with pent up emotion, “Time for what?”  
“To think,” she looked up at him, “To decide whether to believe you, to listen to you.”   
They locked eyes then.   
“Kiss her!” his mind screamed but his body refusing to obey and the opportunity was abruptly lost as she heard Sally's steps on the flagstones of the yard. She broke their embrace, withdrawing and smoothing her dress.   
Sally opened the door, walked in and stood stock still.  
“Oh dear, should I go out and come back in again?” She looked at Eidra, then Loki who shook his head,   
“I was taking my leave,” He nodded to Eidra, who returned the gesture, holding his gaze before he broke it to look at Sally, “Good day.”  
“You will be back on the morrow?”  
“I will,” Loki nodded.  
Her smile was genuine and it drove through his heart like an arrow leaving him to wonder at how one could fall in love over and over again with the same woman. He bowed to Sally, to Eidra and was gone.

 

“I walked in on something.”   
It was a statement not a question. Sally wrapped her shawl closer to her and swung the teakettle over the fire to boil.  
Eidra was back in her chair now, her knitting in hand. “You walked in on nothing.”   
She began to knit, her mind replaying what had happened, or had nearly happened as Sally returned.   
The rocker creaked as Sally settled in, “Indeed nothing, because I walked in.”  
Eidra thought of his blue-green eyes staring into hers, his smile, “Sal, you do so love intrigue.”  
Sally chuckled as she began to rock, “Who does not?” She caught the hint of a grin playing at the corners of Eidra's mouth and nodded, “Who does not, indeed.”

 

Chris grinned at Loki, who had been pacing the floor since he'd arrived home.   
“Did you think that she would disappear when you touched her? Like a spirit? Has anyone else done such a thing? The boys you played caid with?”  
“No, it just seemed somehow so tenuous, our connection, that I feared the slightest touch would break it.”  
“You should've kissed her boy. Like the fairy tales, forgive the pun, where the prince kisses or is kissed and the spell is broken.”  
Loki sat down on his cot, “And what if the spell was broken. What if I found myself back in Asgard?” Back in my prison cell, he thought to himself.   
Chris waved at him, “Poppycock, boy. Believe what you like, I say we are the key to their salvation if only they would see it. Who knows,” He grunted as he lifted the kettle of stew from over the fire to place it on the table, “perhaps your success might mean mine own. If Eidra leaves to flit off with you, Sally may decide to follow suit after all these years.”  
He gestured for Loki to come to the table, handing him the ladle, “Now that would be a miracle. Spoon some of that stew into me bowl son and lets us fortify our bellies for the day ahead.”


	9. 9

The following morning dawned gray but the rain stayed away. When Loki knocked on the cottage door and opened it to peer in, he saw the fire in the hearth burning low, Eidra and Sally nowhere to be seen. He headed from the cottage out to the barn. As he drew closer, the plaintive lowing of a cow in distress quickened his step.  
He walked into the barn to find Brenna laying on the hay in her stall, her sides heaving as Sally patted her head and Eidra knelt at her backside by the light of a lantern hung on a post beside her.  
“Loki, I am so glad you are here. Breanna is ready to deliver but we may have to move the calf around to help her.” Eidra rose from the hay, brushing her hands together.  
“I know nothing about birthing livestock, I fear I will be of little help.”  
Sally laughed, “Just stand and watch, and if ye see the calf's backside, ye might lend a hand.”  
Brenna lowed pitifully as Loki looked to Eidra, “When did she start laboring?”  
“Oh we heard her not far past midnight,” she yawned, “I am near to exhausted.”   
She flopped down in the hay beside Brenna, her back to the stable wall. “Would you like to keep vigil with us or have you better things to do than stare at a cow's backside all morning?”  
“Not at all,” Loki lowered himself to the hay slowly with a sharp intake of breath until he was seated beside her. He picked up a piece of straw and began to play with it.  
“Do those ribs still trouble you?”   
“A bit. I heal rather quickly.”  
“Perhaps it is this place set ye quickly to rights. Tir Na Nog has strong magic.” Sally murmured.  
“Does it now?” Loki chuckled, held out his hand and whispered ,“ En varm lys til å lyse min vei.”  
All at once, an orb of yellow light appeared to float above his palm.  
“Goodness me!” Sally exclaimed, “How did ye do that?”  
Loki winked at her, “Strong magic,” then he saw Eidra's face, mesmerized in the glow of the orb.  
“Tell me, Eidra, tell me what you are seeing,” he kept his voice soft, not wishing to startle her.  
At first she said nothing, continuing to stare at the light. Then in a small voice, she murmured, “I see a dark river.”  
“Look around you, what else do you see?”  
Eidra's eyes slid slowly to her left, “Something dwells within the waters,” she tilted her head, “I hear a sound.... like thunder.”  
Brenna lowed again, louder, her sides straining and Eidra shook her head, the vision gone.  
“Loki, what did I see?” she felt as if she'd been dreaming.  
He closed his hand into a fist and the orb winked out, “A very special place.”  
He waited for her to tell him that he was talking nonsense again but to his surprise, she seemed to think for a few moments. “It was dark there.”  
“It is a cavern behind a waterfall...”   
Brenna brayed fit to raise the roof from the barn, her neck stretched long, her tongue protruding from her gaping mouth as her hooves kicked at the hay.   
“Look Eidra! I see something,” Sally cried  
Eidra scrambled to her feet. The sac containing the calf had started to emerge.  
“Thank the gods, I see a nose.”  
Brenna strained again as the membrane broke open revealing a brown white face and forelegs, the eyes wide.  
“It looks surprised,” Loki knelt down for a closer look.  
“Consider where it is right now. Would you not feel the same?” Eidra tapped him gently on the back.  
With a final groan from Brenna, the rest of the calf slid out onto the hay. Sally clapped her hands as Brenna turned her head to nuzzle the little bundle, her long tongue rolling the calf on its side and she licked at its head. Eidra sat back on her heels, watching Brenna clean her newborn.   
“The miracle of life, in such a place as this. What a wonder it must be to have a child.” she murmured.  
Loki cast a glance at her, keeping his reply inside his head. She had begun to listen to him, not to scoff each time something more was revealed to her but he suspected that to repeat that she did indeed have a child would be too much at this time.  
“It is truly miraculous.”  
The calf struggled to it's knees but no further and Eidra leaned forward. “It is a boy! Sal, a boy.”  
Sally crawled over to look. “Joy! When he is old enough, we shall be able to let him out to stud. Perhaps we might mate him with Corrine.”  
Brenna had regained her feet then and they stood back, watching as the hungry calf made to rise with her, but Brenna's rough tongue knocked it off balance as it wobbled to the hay again. Finally, regaining it footings, the calf sought and found a teat. As it began to suckle, Sally elbowed Eidra, “What shall we name him?”  
Eidra looked at Loki, “What would you name a boy?”  
Loki was playing in his mind the countless conversations they'd had about baby names. The calf shook itself, the action toppling it to the hay once more.  
“What of the name Magnus?”  
Eidra glanced at Sally who nodded, “Why not. It sounds like a strong name.”  
“Magnus it is then. We should tell David that the calf has been born,” She turned to Loki, “He is one of the men in the village who owns the stud, Magnus's father.”  
“I'm going to put the kettle on,” Sally touched Eidra's arm and headed out the barn door leaving the two of them watching Magnus take in his surroundings, as a very diligent mother cow hovered overhead.   
After a moment, Eidra leaned against Loki's side and he had to suppress a shiver, “The vision I had, was it real?”  
“Yes.”  
“How do you know?”  
He glanced down at her, “I was there.”  
“But I did not see you.”  
The calf bumped into Brenna's side, rubbing its head against her.   
“That I cannot answer. Perhaps I was standing beside you or behind you.”  
“It is maddening,” she leaned over the stall gate, “Come, let us get inside, leave mother and child be. I am weary and hungry.”  
With one last backward glance, they walked out of the barn towards the cottage. As they reached the flagstone path to the door, Eidra turned to Loki, “In a couple days, there will be another reel, will you attend?”  
“I do not know, I must have a reason to go,” he teased.  
“Accompany me. I grow tired of seeming as though I cannot find a man who is willing to be seen with me.”   
“But you have Sally to accompany you,” he smiled as she gave him a shove.   
“Bring Chris with you, then. He can attend to her.”  
“Would you rather be seen with me?” He had stopped now just before the door, she facing him.   
“Does that surprise you?”  
“Yes,” he hesitated. “However, I would much rather spend time with you here. Time alone without Sally in our midst is so rare.”  
“Time alone?”  
He closed his eyes, pursed his lips together, “I feel we cannot talk freely with her here. It is no fault of hers.”  
Eidra seemed to consider this, raised an eyebrow, “I do not know if Sally would go without me.”  
“Convince her to let Chris accompany her. We go to hunt on the morrow, I will talk with him.”  
She wrinkled her nose, giggled, “Why does this feel perfectly wicked?”  
“Keeping a secret often does. Now hush. You tend to yours and I will tend to mine.”

 

And so he did. He was up well before dawn that next morning, shaking Chris's bedstead.   
“Come on, you layabout. We must beat the sunrise to be ready for our prey.”  
Chris waved him away and pulled his blanket up to his chin whereas Loki tore it from his hands, “I promised the ladies a share of our kill, would you disappoint them?”  
Chris opened one eye to peep at him, “I daresay even the dumbest creatures in the forest are asleep at this hour.”  
Loki was sitting in a chair at the table, pulling on his boots, “And that is why we must endeavor to be hidden before they awake. You have hunted many a time, nothing has changed.”  
“Loki, my boy, you have years on me. I am old and slow,” he swung his legs over the floor groaning, “and grossly out of shape.”  
Loki took his cloak off the peg by the door and fastened it about his neck, “Then this shall make you feel young.”  
Chris shook his head as he stood up, “No, it shall make me feel older. Fetch me my britches from that chair like a good lad.”  
Loki handed Chris his breeches, knelt by the fire to catch a piece of kindling alight, then opened the door of the lantern on the table, lighting the candle inside and picking up his crossbow which he'd placed beside the door the previous evening. “I will make up for your shortcomings, my friend.”  
Chris stamped his boot on the floor to force his foot inside. “It is a gargantuan task you take on for my shortcomings are many.”

They had elected to leave their horses down the trail a bit, far from the deer run. Loki sat with his back against one side of the tree, Chris opposite him on the other side, his musket across his knees.  
“Are you sure you do not want me to show you how to shoot it?” Chris reached around the trunk and poked Loki in the side.  
“My crossbow does not recoil as much as your firearm. I am quite happy with it.”  
Chris shrugged, resettling himself against the trunk, “My musket is not as accurate but does greater damage. Together we should be able to bag us a haunch or two, what say you?  
“We shall see when it gets a bit brighter.”  
They had extinguished the lantern after they had chosen the tree to sit watch by and now they waited for the horizon to brighten as they listened to the sounds of the forest waking for the day.  
“Christopher,”  
“Yes, my boy, I am still awake.”  
“I did not expect you to be asleep.”  
“Oh,” Chris smiled, “Well then, what is it?”  
“I wish it were possible to show my appreciation for your hospitality properly.”  
“Ah.” Chris scanned the surrounding woods, “ The feeling is mutual, you've given company and assistance to an old tired man, thus I find it exceeding difficult to believe the tales you told to Fin.”  
“Tales?”  
“Of your past, your imprisonment, the evil you claim to embody.”  
Loki frowned to himself, “You would scarce have recognized me when the madness was upon me.”   
“But 'tis all in the past. Why hold onto it so tightly?”  
“It is not my grasp which is iron fisted, rather the events which I cannot expunge that led me here. No matter what I do, it will not change what I have done.”  
“Surely there is forgiveness in the world, lad. Don't give up hope.”  
“The world need be much larger to hold all the forgiveness I would require,” Loki reached around to grasp Chris's arm, “Shhh.”  
Chris leaned around the trunk of the tree, “A target?” He whispered.  
Loki nodded, “He is not close enough yet.”  
They sat silent for a few minutes, “He is moving off towards the east but he has not scented us. We shall wait and see if he comes back this way.”  
The woods had brightened up considerably, the sky bright. the sun not yet on the horizon, though the clouds moving in assured that the sun would only be a bit player that day.  
“Chris,”  
“Yes, my boy.”  
“There is a dance the evening after this.”  
“Hmmph,” Chris grunted, “I wonder what the occasion is? 'Tis not the winter solstice already is it?”  
“Not yet, soon. Are you planning on attending?”  
Chris gave a laugh, “I go, Sally rebuffs me. I stand there and eat cake, drink ale or cider, and feel sorry for myself. Perhaps I shall stay by the hearth,” he peered around the trunk, “Why do you ask? Have you a notion to go this time?”  
Loki chewed his lip, “I had not thought of it. I wondered whether you might ask Sally to be your guest for the evening.”  
Chris roared all of a sudden and Loki clapped his hand to his forehead,  
“You will clear this forest with another outburst like that.”  
“I'm sorry lad, it struck me so funny. You cannot think she would consider it. Why she'd sooner see me dunked head first in a horse trough than be caught with her arm in mine. You cannot imagine how she fretted the last dance. Eidra set her to attend with me. ”  
Loki leaned out and looked around the tree, “How long has it been since last you asked her to step out?”  
Chris leaned over, returning his gaze, “Lad, you are up to something.”  
Loki looked at the surrounding forest, then back at him, “Were I to tell you, maybe you would take pity on me.”  
“Well now that all depends.”  
“Eidra wished me to attend the reel. I begged off. I wish only to spend time with her alone. Sally is ever at her elbow.”  
Chris slowly smiled, “Alone, my boy?” he waggled his eyebrows.  
Loki stared at him for a minute, then realization dawned upon him, “Though I will admit to an all-consuming desire for her that has not abated in five long seasons. I will not jeopardize my cause in such a way. I wish simply to be with her.”  
“Of course boy, but you'd not say no were love to fall into your lap?”  
Loki chuckled, “Were it to do so, I would not be so foolish, no.”  
“That's my boy. Very well. For the sake of your happiness, and quite possibly your libido, I shall make every effort to charm Sally from the cottage for a few precious hours.”  
Loki's broad grin was all Chris needed, he reached back and shook Loki's arm, “I will do my best, boy, I will do my best.”


	10. 10

Eidra stood beside Corrine with her hands on her hips waiting for Sally to stop laughing, “Are you quite finished?”  
“Eidra,” she gasped, “Certainly ye can't be serious.”  
“I am,” Eidra pulled the stool in closer to Corrine's side and sat down.  
“I would much rather stay home than go to the reel without ye and certainly not with that jackanape.”  
She listened to the milk stream into the pail, “But I do not wish to go and I do not want to keep you from going.”  
“What if Loki is going to be there?” Sally was in Brenna's stall petting Magnus.  
“And what if he is. All the more reason for me to stay home,” she moved the pail slightly to sit under the next set of teats, “Perhaps Chris would not pester you so if you paid him a little attention from time to time.”  
Sally walked over to Eidra and stood watching her, “And when the sky falls, we'd all catch lots. I'm of the opinion that it would be a hundred times worse if I were to show even the merest glimmer of hope to him.”  
Eidra sighed, she was sure that Loki was having much better luck with Chris at this moment.   
“And why are ye so hot to have me while away a few hours with that old tomcat anyhow?”  
Eidra rose from the stool and picked up the pail, “I told you, I feel like staying home and I do not wish to stop you from going, if that be a crime, to see that my friend has a good time, than I am well and truly guilty.”  
“I don't know, ye've got that look in yer eye.”  
The milk sloshed in the pail as they walked the path to the cottage and she had to slow down a bit, “I have nothing of the sort. Honestly, Sal, it is as if you do not trust me.”  
She turned her head to see Sally peering at her through narrowed eyes and she was barely able to contain her laughter, “Must you look at me like that?”  
Sally put her hand on her chin, “Ye are up to something.”  
“And you imagine things.”   
Sally swung the door open for Eidra, “We will see who's imagining what.”

 

Loki pulled on the rope with all his might until the deer's carcass finally hovered over the floor of the barn. He tied the rope around a nearby post. “Now to let it hang for a couple of days.”  
He walked to his horse, untied the two rabbits from the pommel of the saddle and handed them to Chris. “We shall keep one for this evening's meal. I shall bring the other one out to Eidra and Sally. Does that suit you?”  
Chris waved at him, “Go with my blessings. When you return I shall have a rabbit stew on the fire.”  
“I will make all due haste.” Loki mounted his horse as Chris slapped its flank.  
“What a liar you are,” he laughed at Loki's sly smile, “Go on with you.”

 

Eidra walked out to the barn with Loki where he laid the rabbit on a plank board table shoved into the corner of the barn for gardening. He withdrew his dagger from his thigh holster, leaving Eidra with an odd twinge that was swiftly gone as he began toskin the creature.  
“Sally is unwilling to leave me alone next evening. I dare not push the issue lest she figure out what I am up to.”  
“I fail to see why we do not simply explain to her that we wish to spend time together,”   
“Then she will start to ask questions to which I do not wish to give a straight answer,” Eidra looked away as Loki stripped the skin from the body.  
“What questions?”  
She twisted the toe of her slipper in the dirt, “She will ask to what purpose we need the time.”  
Loki stole a glance at her, “And what would you say?”  
“I confess I know not what.”  
He sighed, “Nor do I.”  
She leaned into him, her forehead against his back and he closed his eyes for a moment, exhilarated by the intimacy, though too soon, he had to turn around.  
“I need a wide board, some nails and a mallet if I am to stretch this skin out.” As Eidra searched about the barn, he scrapped down the inside of the skin as best he could with his dagger.  
She soon returned with a leather pouch full of nails and a plank, setting them down on the table beside him. He started to stretch and secure the skin to the plank.  
“Well we must think of something to tell Sally,” she reached over and stroked the rabbit's fur.  
“What will you use the skin for?” He asked as he watched her fingers sink into the pelt.  
“Lining for slippers, mittens. Would you like lined mittens?”  
He shook his head, “The pelt is for you to do with as you wish.”  
She looked behind her through the barn door to the cottage, “Will you stay for the evening meal?”  
“I cannot, Chris is making stew and I told him I would sup with him tonight.”  
He set the plank high on the barn wall, “In a few days I shall cure it.”  
They started back for the cottage, “I will try my best to think of something.”  
Loki chuckled, “Chris will be at your doorstep ready to whisk her away in any case. Perhaps you should prepare her instead.”  
She put her hand to her mouth, “This will be most interesting.”  
“Indeed.”

 

They rode at a slow pace down the road, Chris checking his tunic and vest for the tenth time. “Do you think she will find me suitable?”  
“You have dressed in your best set of clothes, you have bathed thoroughly, oiled your boots, trimmed your beard, what more could she ask for?”  
Chris eyed him, “And you have done the same. Look at you, clean shaven, your hair pulled back, dressed in your finest. 'Tis a good choice to stay close to the hearth. There would be women looking for your arm all evening.”  
“I will stay well away from this frolic, believe me.”  
“And what have you planned for the evening then?” Chris leaned over and poked him in the arm.  
“Nothing other than sharing one another's company.”  
“She has invited you over to an empty cottage for an unspecified amount of time and the only thing you think about sharing is company?”  
“I told you, Chris, I will not jeopardize our budding relationship,” Loki replied though he couldn't suppress a grin.  
“Well,” Chris broke into a trot, “Fortunately, I have no such compunctions.”

They dismounted just outside the dooryard and hitched their horses to the post at the end of the fence.   
“Well, my boy,” Chris straightened his vest once more, “We either go home tonight together or separate.”  
They walked up the flagstone path. Loki reached for the iron ring to knock but the door opened before he could touch it and Eidra appeared on the lintel.  
“Sally will be out in a few minutes,” she told Chris who grinned from ear to ear, took Eidra's hand and kissed it,   
“My dear, I shall be forever in your debt.”  
Loki gave her a curious look but she put her finger to her lips.  
Moments later, Sally stepped through the doorway. Her graying hair had been put up in a chignon and tied with a red ribbon, she had donned a butter yellow dress, the bodice embroidered in brightly colored flowers and vines. A red sash hung draped around her waist and a pair of dainty satin red slippers finished off the ensemble. The only difference was her countenance. She looked resigned to her fate.   
“Sally, my dear, you are a vision,” Chris bowed low to the ground, one leg extended.   
“Thank ye,” she said through clenched teeth, “Eidra, are ye sure ye don't want to come with us?”  
“I am sure,” Eidra nodded.  
“Very well, let's get a move on.” Sally took Chris's extended arm and they started down the walkway, stopping suddenly when Sally realized Loki was not following. She turned back, staring at Eidra with an open mouth and began to protest but Chris was steering her forward.  
“Sally, allow me to explain whilst we walk.”   
“But..but..,” She stammered as they reached the road.  
“But, we have the whole night ahead of us, my dear, come along.”

Eidra had her hands to her mouth, hopelessly lost in a fit of giggles, “Did you see her face when she realized you were staying here with me? She shall be madder than a wet hen when she returns.”  
Loki grinned, his arms folded, “I feel badly for Chris. He will have his hands full tonight.”  
She walked to the fire and swung the kettle over it.   
“We shall have tea. I have some wonderful lavender and chamomile that I harvested this summer.”  
He nodded, “Industrious creature you are.”  
She waved to the rocking chairs, “Sit, we will wait for the water to boil.”  
When they were both seated, he glanced down at the basket beside her chair. “You might knit if you like.”  
She tilted her head and gave him a half smile, “Knit? Well I suppose, I do not wish to seem rude.”  
Loki smiled, “You will not.”  
She shrugged, picked up the ball of yarn, pulled her needles out of it and started to knit, watching him from the corner of her eye. He had turned sideways, gazing at her as she worked the needles, a beatific smile upon his face.  
“What are you thinking?” she murmured.  
“That all is right with the world now.”   
She shook her head, “I sense the familiar here.”  
“Many evenings we would sit like this and talk, and you would knit.”  
She looked at him, “They were happy times for you?”  
He locked eyes with hers, “The happiest in my life.”  
She laid her knitting in her lap then, staring into the fire, “I am sorry Loki.”  
“For what?”  
“For forgetting. I want to remember, I do.”  
“You do? Does this mean you believe what I have been telling you at last?” He reached over and put his hand on the arm of her chair.  
“Should I not do so?”  
He gazed at her exquisite face in wonder. Every day she grew more beautiful, “I have told you nothing but the truth. Do you not trust me?”  
“Yes,” her hand stole to cover his, Do you think I shall ever remember the times I see in my dreams?”  
“I fervently hope so.”  
At the urgent whistle of the kettle, she set her knitting down in the basket, “Loki, will you fetch two mugs?”  
Loki walked to the cupboard, opened one of the small doors and took down two mugs. The flare of the candle in the sconce on the wall beside him illuminated something far back inside the cupboard that made his heart skip a beat. He pulled out a pair of yellowed dice and walked to the table where Eidra had sat down with the kettle and a couple of linen parcels of tea.  
He set the mugs on the table and took his seat, holding out the dice to her. “I saw these in the cupboard.”  
“I have not touched them in so long. I had them made for me when I came here. I used to play games with my father in Alfheim.”  
“Show me.”  
He put them on the table and waited.  
“We need a piece of parchment and a quill to keep score but the object is to roll the die and keep adding up your points...,” Her voice trailed off and she turned her head to stare into the fire as she continued, softer, “You may stop at any time and let the other player go, for if you roll a one, you lose your points. It is a game of chance.”  
She blinked, put her hand to her forehead, “I have said these words before.”  
“To me,” He put his hand atop hers as they lay over the dice and she jumped, “This game led to our first kiss.”  
She turned to look at him, her bottom lip trembling, “I am trying to see.”  
He leaned forward, the memories rushing over him as sharp as any arrow, piercing the veil around his heart, “Will you allow me to help you?”  
She could only nod, mute, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips touched hers. It was as if time had reversed itself. He was momentarily lost, unable to move, the shock of touching her again, kissing her, drawing forth a sob from the depths of his very soul. He brought his hands up to cup her face, relishing the warmth of her skin, the slip of her tongue over his bottom lip to grapple with his own, the contented hum, the kiss deepening, taking their breath, drawing them closer together and   
all at once, her eyes flew open.   
She backed away from him, her hand out before her, she swallowed dryly.   
“I saw you,” she gasped, her voice high, tense, “..just like this, in front of a huge fireplace, and there was a large bed,” she pointed to her right, “Over here. A long terrace, marble columns,” she shook her head, “You were not dressed as a servant.”  
“Nor were you,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.   
She looked down at herself as if it would be possible to see what she had been wearing, “I do not know where I was, I did not recognize it.”  
“You were in Asgard, in the palace.” He made to take her hand but stopped.  
“How could I kiss someone, yet not be able to remember them?”  
Loki put his head in his hands, “I confess this is what plagues me the most. The visions of our life appear before you unbidden and still you can recall nothing?”  
He could see the tears standing in her eyes, “Perhaps I am cursed as Sally is.”  
He took her hands then, held them in his own over the table, “If that is so, I will find a way to break it, to make you see that you loved me once.”  
“Perhaps I could again.”  
To his surprise, she leaned to him again and caught his mouth in another kiss, her hands squeezing his tightly with a whimper that tore at his heart. She backed away from him then, gently.   
“Tell me more about us.”  
They spent the evening sitting beside each other in the chairs before the fire, her hand clasped in his as he tried to help her to remember. He told her of Helgi who had treated her like a daughter, Silas, the boy who was equally dedicated to her.  
“Was I such a good person to deserve their loyalty?”  
He nodded, “You were so innocent.”  
She shoved him playfully, “And am I not now?”  
“Of course.”  
She could hear the mirth in his voice and she looked at him, “Why do I not believe you?”  
Loki hesitated, “You are different, changed from the timid girl I knew to a woman of great strength. You have grown in my absence.”  
She sat straighter in the chair, “I confess to a particularly headstrong streak.”  
He smiled at this, “And it has enhanced your beauty a thousandfold.”  
She shook her head at his compliment, “Shameless flatterer,” to which he put up his hand.  
“Shameless, yes. Flatterer no. Every word I say is true.”  
After a while, he managed to convince her, finally, to play the dice game. The first roll of the die brought forth the dream of another evening spent together.  
She stared at the dice in her hand, “I see a young boy dressed in a short tunic, breeches. He has a roundish face, dark blue eyes, red hair..”  
“Silas,”  
“What was he?”  
Loki looked at her, “What was he?”  
“What did he do then?”  
“Oh, he was a houseboy.”  
“For whom?”  
He stopped, pondering what he should say then. Should he tell her, try to convince her of who he was or would it only serve to scare her?  
“For me.”  
“A servant for a servant?”  
“Do you believe I was only a servant?”  
She was silent then, “No. I still cannot recall but I know you were not a servant. I could see it.”  
He was about to expound on it when they heard voices approaching the door, leaning away from each other as it swung open.  
To Loki's surprise, Sally and Chris were both smiles as they walked into the cottage.  
“My dear lady, I had a delightful evening,” Chris bowed to her and she curtsied back.  
“As did I.”  
They looked to Loki and Eidra who were staring boldfaced at them.  
“What?” Chris puffed out his chest, adjusting his coat.  
“Nothing,” Loki stood, offered his hand to Eidra who took it and rose from her chair with him.  
“Very well then, shall we point ourselves in the direction of home?”  
Loki nodded, “Give me a moment to take my leave of Eidra.”  
Chris smiled and turned to Sally, “And I shall likewise take my leave of Sally.”  
Loki opened the door to the cottage, stepping out into the darkness with Eidra close behind. Once outside, without the table to divide them, they came together against the outer wall of the cottage, their kiss taking on a new ardor, she putting her hands upon his shoulders as she moaned into his mouth. He thought the seasons lost in his rage would have left him with a steel resolve but his growing lust caused him to push her gently albeit abruptly from him.  
“Forgive me Eidra,” he whispered, “You inflame me so that I dare not continue in such a manner.”  
She nodded, nuzzling his throat with the bridge of her nose, “Then until we meet again.”   
She kissed his chin and backed away from him as Chris opened the door.  
“Loki, my boy,” Chris held out the lantern for him to take, then he bowed, “Eidra, we bid you good evening.”

Loki watched the lantern sway back and forth as they walked the horses down the road out of the village, “Did you truly have a delightful evening?”  
Chris laughed, “Yes indeed. I know not what Eidra did to put her in such a tractable mood but she must do it more often. Methinks her affability may have been partly due to my revelation of your plan to steal time alone with Eidra. Do forgive me, my friend.”  
Loki shrugged, “There is nothing to forgive. Whatever worked for you worked for me.”  
Chris clapped his hands, “Well said, boy. And what of you? Did your evening go as planned?”  
The innuendo in Chris's question did not go unnoticed.   
“It went as I planned, perhaps not as you imagined.”  
“Ah well, did you enjoy yourself then?”  
“I did, Chris, and I thank you.”  
“What's to thank me for. I daresay this evening was a success on all counts. I was able to spend some time in pleasant dance with my beloved and you were able to waste a few hours, in my opinion, in idle chatter. Now to home, a cup of cider and a soft bed, alone, alas but all good things take time.”  
Loki nodded, a grin on his face, “Indeed they do.”


	11. 11

From that moment forward, an easy intimacy developed between Eidra and Loki. When they were together, she would always find reason to touch his hand, stroke his face, rub his shoulders as he milked Corrine and Brenna, Magnus having been weaned now from her. They would sit in the loft ofttimes and talk, ride about the countryside together. Other times he would be content just to sit and watch her knit, holding the yarn as she wound it into a ball. His life had begun to take on a richness he'd never had in all his years living in the palace. Though immersing himself into the life of a commoner had been a necessary evil to reach her, he could well see them continuing as such when finally she was restored. The peace of keeping one's own house, far from the intrusive pace of palace life, loving and laughing together, starting a family, joys he had thought all but lost to him, he now had reason to hope would become reality.  
Such was their relationship developing that one afternoon, Eidra rode out to Chris's cottage accompanied by Sally who had fallen into a congenial acquaintance with Chris.  
She found Loki on the short knoll behind the cottage, tossing chunks of wood into a cart beside him. She spurred her horse up the hill and dismounted as he buried the ax he held into the tree stump before him, wiping the sweat from his brow. She studied him as he approached, bare to the waist, skin flecked with wood chips and dirt.  
“I missed you this morning,” She clasped her hands at her waist, kicking at a piece of stray wood.  
Loki seemed puzzled then closed his eyes, “Ah forgive me, last night's parting was such that it stole all coherent thought from me. I forgot to tell you I was to help Chris with the firewood today.” He smiled at the color which rose to her cheeks as she cast her eyes to the ground.  
They had ended that previous evening in passionate grappling upon the hay in the barn loft. Even now, the memory stirred him so that he had to lean upon the ax handle.  
Fin couldn't have been more accurate in his assessment of her strengths, her change of spirit. He had been at her mercy. Gone was the shy, sweet maid he'd first bedded. In her stead was a fierce, fiery seductress whose kisses had driven him mad with lust, his heart a-thunder in his chest, his manhood hard enough to fairly ache with the friction against her thigh. He had kissed, nipped, tongued his way down her throat to the swell of her breasts above her bodice, her fingers entangled in his hair. When he had unlaced the thin ribbon tied at the front, however, she had groaned, pushing his hand away.  
“We must stop, Loki,” she had whispered, trembling with desire.  
He had lain his head upon her shoulder and sighed, “I do concur.”   
Looking up at her face illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the slats of the barn wall, he had known then, in an instant, that time had not erased the need to be with her. He must spend his life beside her, nothing else would satisfy him..

“I was worried that you were cross with me.”  
He lifted up another short chunk of wood and placed it on the stump, “Cross? For what reason?” He hefted the ax above his head and split the chunk in two.   
'Because I was afraid. I know we have spoken about so much of our past but I am still afraid to let go....to give myself over to the dreams.”  
He set up another chunk, “I ken, Eidra.” split it, picked up the halves and chucked them onto the wagon.  
He had considered, albeit briefly, showing her the Uruz, explaining how he'd come by it, hoping to spur her to believe what he'd told her of their past, but something bigger had stopped him. His worst fear; that she would take it back. In the hay loft, when they were in the throes of passion, it had begun to hum, to throb at his chest, as it always had whenever they would couple, until he had to wonder that she could not feel it. He did ponder the possibility that the resonance was only meant for him to feel.  
“I had hoped you would.” She glided up to his side, twining her arm with his, lacing their fingers together. He turned and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair.  
“Will you stay to sup with us?”  
She squeezed his hand, “I shall ask Sally, I am sure a night free of the hearth would agree with her.”  
They arrived at the cottage a time later, Eidra riding beside him in the wagon, her horse tied behind, to find Sally and Chris standing outside by the hen house.  
“Would ye looka this,” Sally held up a gray tiger-striped kitten. “Would she not make a perfect addition to the barn at home?”  
“Sally, we have enough cats, is she not still too young?”  
Sally held the kitten's nose to hers and it mewled. “Ah, ye cannot resist, can ye?”  
“I can, I think she might need a few more weeks at the teat. Leave her and if she be there after a fortnight, we will take her.”  
“Unless she's become a champion mouser.” Chris chimed in, “Then it'll cost you.”  
Sally cradled the kitten in her arms, “Very well.”  
Eidra nudged Loki, “Sal, Loki has invited us to take the evening meal with himself and Chris. Might we stay?”  
“If it means I've no need to cook, I would be agreeable.” She stroked the kitten's head.  
Eidra smiled, “Content. You enjoy yourself with the kit, I prefer to help in the kitchen.”

It had started to rain by the time Loki finished unloading the firewood beneath the lean to at the side of the cottage and he darted inside to find Chris and Eidra by the fireplace talking and laughing together, Sally in a chair with the kitten asleep on her lap.  
“I would sooner see snow than this insufferable rain through the winter,” he walked to the fire to dry himself.  
“ 'Tis the stone in me shoe for the land of Eire. The rain. I would prefer snow meself. In the least it would pretty up the landscape.” Sally piped up.  
Loki peered into the iron pot bubbling over the fire.   
“Venison stew,” Chris stirred it with a wooden spoon he'd been holding, “Why don't you take a mug, get a heaping amount of flour from the barrel in the storeroom and I shall mix up dumplings for it.”  
The dumplings deposited atop the stew to cook, the four of them sat about the table talking, Loki beside Eidra, Chris and Sally across from one another.  
“We shall be on the hunt again in a couple mornings.” Chris reached over and patted the table, coaxing the kitten to bat at his fingers.  
Eidra looked at Loki, “Will you go as well.”  
“Yes, of course.”  
Eidra reached over and picked up his hand, placing it in hers, “Might I come as well?”  
Chris raised his eyebrows, glancing at Loki, “To what purpose?”  
“I would like to learn how to hunt.”   
Loki caressed the side of her hand with his thumb. “The crossbow is hard to set even for someone like me. How would you ever do so?”  
“I am stronger than you think. You have but to show me what to do.”  
He sighed, “Have you ever shot a crossbow, or a long bow?”  
“At my father's house, yes though I was a bit younger. Oh please, Loki. I do so wish to be more of a help in the stocking of the root cellar.”  
Chris stared into the fire, Loki knew it was his way of leaving the matter in his hands.   
“Let me see how you handle my crossbow first.” Loki stood, grabbed their cloaks from the pegs, “We have a few moments before the meal. Come on.”  
He heard Chris chuckle just before he walked out the door with Eidra, his bow in hand and shook his head as he closed the door behind them.

As she watched the rain drip from the eaves of the roof, Loki set up a chunk of wood for a target half way down the other end of the lean-to and started to set the bow.  
“There is a stirrup at the end where you will put your foot.”  
She nodded, watching him intently.  
“You pull the bow back until the string notches into the catch. Now you load the bolt here,” he dropped the bolt into the barrel, “Raise the bow to your shoulder, sight your target between the notch at the very end there,” he sighted in the center of the chunk of wood, “Take a deep breath, blow it out and pull the trigger.”  
The chunk of wood flew backwards, nearly rolling out the other end of the shelter into the pouring rain. He handed her the bow and ran to set up another piece of wood. He would have to break the bolt from the pieces later. When he returned, she was trying to set the crossbow and he let her work on it. To her credit, she made a valiant effort but the last inch turned out to be the hardest and in the end, she handed the bow to him, panting. “You shall have to set it.”  
He took the bow from her, “I figured as much. Do not despair as I said, it is even hard for me.”  
“You make it look easy,” she pouted.  
He seated a bolt in the barrel and handed the crossbow to her, “Now it will kick back at you, do not rest it too hard at your shoulder, just butt it there,” he pulled the stock to her shoulder, “Now sight a little lower at your target until you see how hard it will kick. Then you adjust accordingly.”  
Eidra's mouth twisted, “Perhaps this was not well thought out.”  
“You wish to withdraw your request?” He put his hand on the stock but she pulled away from him.  
“No, I shall do it.”  
He grinned, stepped back, “Have at it.”  
She lay her cheek upon the stock, closed one eye to sight down the notch, “Aim lower?”  
“A bit, yes.”  
She let the tip of the crossbow down and pulled the trigger. The recoil staggered her backwards a bit but the bolt hit the wood, albeit at the uppermost edge of the block and it toppled back into the dirt floor of the lean to.  
“Well done,” Loki clapped her on the shoulder, “Sight a bit lower...,”  
She turned, wrapped one arm about his neck and drew him into a kiss so fierce he had to struggle to maintain his balance, grabbing at the crossbow in her other hand.  
“Eidra, gods you are still a little minx.”  
She smiled against his lips, “I like that, little minx.”  
“Come, surely the meal is soon to be served. I shall ask Chris if you might come with us provided you can abide by the rules.”

Chris hedged and fretted but in the end he said she could go as a trial run. Thus it was that she found herself sitting against a tree beside Loki in the wee hours of morning, Chris around the other side of the trunk.  
“My bottom is soaked,” she groused shifting about on the burlap blanket they had brought. It had rained the evening before though it had let up just before dawn.  
“It was pouring buckets around midnight.” Chris muttered, “That is what happens when it rains.”  
Loki opened his cloak for Eidra who burrowed beneath, leaning her head on his shoulder.   
“Tell me how I came to be here.”  
He felt his heart start to hammer in his chest. “It is exceeding painful for me to discuss,” Loki murmured.  
Chris leaned around the trunk of the tree. “I think I shall make my stand at that tree yonder,” he pointed, “That way I will be able to see round the hill better.” Chris hauled himself up and made his way towards a large oak a short distance away.  
Loki was quiet for a minute, “We broke Alfari sacred law to be together.”  
He felt her head move, knew she was staring at him.  
“You were condemned to death. It was within your power to save yourself by telling the High Court the name of your lover so he would take your place. I pleaded with you to let me do so, I should have been the one to suffer but you would not let me. I begged them to let me die in your stead but was prevented by doing so by my brother.”  
“You have a brother?”  
“Yes.”  
She took his hand, “He cared so for you that he saved your life.”  
“At the expense of your own. You gave your life for me and I am inclined to believe it is why you are not beyond redemption.”  
“My love for you was so great that I died for you? What happened to you after my passing?”  
He could hear the wonder in her voice, felt his throat constrict.  
“I lost my mind.”  
She reached up, set her hand atop his chest, “Speak no more of it, I would spare you the pain.”  
“No,” He covered her hand with his, “It must be told. I have suffered under its weight for far too long. I despaired of ever being able to tell you how deep my grief ran, how great the anguish of losing you. My heart did not simply break that day, it shattered, I thought, beyond repair until I was given the chance to find you again.”  
She sidled closer to him, “There must have been something in you that incited me to give up that greatest of gifts, life.”  
“I confess I know not what for I was without merit when first you met me,” he closed his eyes against the memories.  
“Then you too must have been redeemed.”  
He gave her a gentle smile, “I would like to think so.”  
“It is painful for me as well, to see a vision before me of love and affection yet not to be able to recall it, here,” she tapped her chest.  
“What of the vision before you now?” he turned his head to look at her.  
“I say that to make someone love you in life and beyond to the next world is no mean feat. It seems fate has linked us together.”  
He thought then of the possibility of remaining here with her, happy, but it would leave so many questions unanswered, foremost being the fate of their daughter.  
“If there were a way to restore you, return you to the realm of the living, would you be willing to leave here? To follow me?”  
Eidra sat back, “Leave Sally? The village? I do not know. Is there such a way?”  
“I have been told.”  
“By whom?” She sat forward to stare at him.  
“Fin.”  
She was quiet, then, “I do not know. I fear the world I left. If they were unwilling to let us be together then, how would restoring me change their minds? And if restored, would I still remember us here? Would I remember Sally or Chris or Siobhan. Colum or the rest?”  
“I do not know.” Loki peered out into the forest, saw Chris and nodded.  
They sat silent, huddled together for warmth, both of them lost in their thoughts until a whistle from Chris brought them around. Loki looked to see a rabbit loping between them in a little clearing, stopping to paw the ground, nosing it.   
“Do you wish to try?” Loki held the crossbow out to her.  
“No, it is much too small a target, you do it.”  
He nodded, took aim and quickly killed the creature. She did try her hand at a shot later that morning, managing to spear a rabbit through the haunch to a fallen log causing Loki to have to dispatch it with a twist of its neck while Eidra looked away.   
They made it back to the cottage by midday with four rabbits. Loki quickly gutting and skinning the rabbit so that they could take it home with them. As he tied the carcass to her pommel, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades.  
“Did I behave well?  
“You did, even Chris complimented you.”  
She smiled, “Will you be out on the morrow?”  
He twisted around in her embrace and enfolded her in his arms. “I will indeed.”  
She heaved a long sigh, “I have pondered finding a cottage of my own. I love Sally dearly, mind you, but...”  
“You wish to be alone?”  
She could hear his heartbeat as she lay her head on his chest. “Do you not wish me to be alone?”  
He stroked her hair, “With none but myself? Yes.”  
By the time they managed to part, the sun was tracing its path to the other side of the sky and threatening clouds had started to move in. With a tender kiss, he sent her on her way.

Chris was cutting up a turnip to add to the pot on the fire when Loki returned to the cabin.  
“She off then?”  
“Yes, rain is coming. She should make it home in time.” Loki pulled out a chair and sat opposite Chris to remove his boots.  
“Thick as thieves you two are becoming. Have you told her about what Fin told you?”  
“I mentioned it.”  
Chris grunted as he stood from the table with a plate of turnips, sliding them into the kettle. “And?”  
“She is still unsure. She will come around but I still must needs wait. And what of Sally? You two seem to be congenial with one another now.”  
Chris shrugged, “Perhaps the curse has worn off with time. I had talked to her of the meadow where we first met. Told her that it was one of my favorite places when I was a lad and she got this faraway look in her eyes. I wonder, was she too having a vision like those of your lady love?”  
“I do hope so. I would like to think that you too shall find the happiness you deserve, my friend.”  
“From your mouth to God's ears.” Chris chuckled, “We will both be successful and amen to that.”


	12. 12

Loki's hand hovered at the door, listening to the voices within. He had seen candles lit in the window as he tied off his horse, expecting Eidra would be awake but the voice he heard now, loud and raucous, was male. He knocked lightly and opened the door. Sally and Eidra were standing about one of the rocking chairs which had been pulled close to the fireplace. In the chair was a man shivering, a cloak wrapped about him.   
Loki recognized his dress, the color of sand and stones the Midgardian clothing of a soldier. He was immediately on his guard. The man's dark brown hair was cropped close to his head. He had a square set jaw, lean angular face, green eyes ablaze as he surveyed his surroundings. He was talking to the women, his hands waving about as he explained to them what had happened to him.  
“I was on the point. It was supposed to be Williams, but he'd been laid up wi' a busted leg!”  
Eidra looked up to see Loki staring at the stranger.   
“Loki!” Eidra waved him over, “This is Angus Kelly...”  
“Of the Clan Kelly,” Angus finished, holding out his hand for Loki to shake. He would have preferred to ignore it but under Eidra's gaze, he decided politeness was a wiser choice. He shook Angus's hand with a firm grip and Angus smiled.  
“Loki, that's a different name. I know I've heard it but I canna' remember where.”  
“Have you ever been to Asgard?” Eidra asked him and Loki wanted to clamp his hand over her mouth.  
“Asgard? I've never heard of the place.”  
Loki blew out the breath he'd been holding, “Loki is a common name among my people.”  
“And what people might they be?” Angus sat forward in the chair.  
“Scandinavian,” he caught Eidra's quick turn of the head but kept his eyes trained on Angus, “And you hail from?”   
“Inverness, Scotland. Have you heard of it?”  
“I know of the country. How is it you came here?”  
“That's the thing,” Angus cried, “There I was walking along the road outside o' Kabul wi' ma unit, ma M-16 at ma side when the IED went off and I found myself a-lying in a glen on ma back, staring up at the sky where you,” he jabbed a thumb towards Eidra, “found me.”   
He eased back into the chair, “And you say this is the place ma mum used to tell about when she read me fairy tales?”  
Eidra nodded, “It is a mystery why you came here, are you of Alfari or Sidhe ancestry?”  
Angus roared with laughter, “Sidhe...do I look like a fairy to you?”  
Loki bristled at his humor, “The lady was merely asking a question, you would do well to apologize for your abrupt reply.”   
His hand strayed absently to the hilt of his ever present dagger hidden beneath his cloak at his thigh.  
Angus, however, held up his hands, “Aye, well said. Forgive me, lass. If I have a touch o' the wee folk in ma family, it's news to me, though if heaven has angels the like o' you,” he smiled at Eidra, “I'll be a happy man.”  
Eidra was gliding by Loki to fetch her cloak from the peg and she fixed him with a sharp look leaving him to wonder if she could read his mind.  
“I will take you to see Fin. You speak of things which I have no knowledge about. He will know why you are here and he will tell you what you need to know. He is the village mage, one of the Tuatha de Dannan.”  
Angus nodded, “First I meet the village angel, and now I'm off ta meet the head fairy? The boys in ma unit would have a ball wi' this.”  
Eidra stepped in front of Loki who'd tensed at Angus's jibe but Loki spoke up, “I will take him to see Fin.”  
“No,” Eidra held up a hand, “I will do it, I found him, Fin may need to speak with me.”  
“Then I shall accompany you,” Loki stepped back to the door, waiting. Eidra fastened her cloak at her neck.  
“As you wish but I am perfectly capable of the task myself.”  
“Aye, I'll not harm a hair on her pretty head,” Angus added.  
“Nevertheless, you are a stranger and she should have an escort.”  
Angus smiled at him but his eyes never left Eidra until Loki offered her his arm as they left the cottage.  
All the way to Fin's manor house, she would neither glance at nor speak to Loki though she hadn't had much of a chance either as Angus kept talking all the way through the village, waving to people, making such inane comments as feeling like he'd stepped into a movie set. Loki's jaw was so tense, his muscles ached by the time they reached Fin's house and gave Angus over to Fin's housekeeper.  
As they walked back to the village, Eidra finally turned on him, “Do you not trust me?”  
“You I trust, him I do not. He is a stranger.”  
“So were you once.”  
Loki frowned, “He is sure of himself, flippant and he is entirely too bold with you.”  
A whisper of a smile formed on her lips, “Are you jealous? Because you know whom I prefer to be bold with. You should not worry.” She bumped against him with her elbow but he stopped walking , holding her with his gaze.  
“I have no choice, I cannot but worry. I will not lose you again.”  
“Loki, what has come over you? This man is a new member of the village and that is all. I have known him all of a morning,” She reached for his hand and held it tightly, heard him sigh.  
“Forgive me Eidra, I will try to temper myself with him but I shall take him to task if he continues to be so familiar with you.”  
Eidra shook her head, put her hand to his face and pulled him into a kiss, made all the more breathtaking as they stood in the middle of the village square.  
“Am I not your little minx, as you say?”  
“You are,” he brushed her lips, feather light, feeling her grin against him. “No one else but you.”  
“And you will promise to give him the benefit of a doubt?”  
He nodded, albeit, reluctantly.  
“You will see, everything will be fine.”

Doing what she had asked, however, became a task of epic proportions. One morning soon after Angus's arrival, Loki had ridden into the village to see Eidra. When he walked into the cottage, Angus was sitting at Eidra's table, naked to the waist, an apple half eaten in his hand while Sally sewed a rip in his tunic.   
“Ah Loki, it would seem i'm stuck here wi' all o' you. I traded in ma ACU's for some old fashioned civvies,” he pointed to himself, “Looka this, I have no' worn a kilt since finishing school. I was putting on the tunic when I ripped the arm. I canna sew so I came here and begged this fine lass to help me.”  
Loki stared at Angus, then looked to Sally who seemed too intent on her sewing to return his stare.  
“Where is Eidra?”  
“Och, she's out in the barn doing the morning milking,” Angus answered him.  
Loki crossed his arms, willing his hands to still, “And you could not do them the favor of milking in return for their services?”  
Angus chuckled, “Women's work, I can repay them with man's work instead. I've never milked a cow in ma life.”  
Loki smiled though his gaze had traveled to the fire. He saw Sally steal a nervous glance at him.  
“If you will excuse me, I must find Eidra.” he bowed slightly and fairly flew out the door.

Eidra was moving the milking stool when Loki made the barn and she held up her hand as soon as she saw him.  
“Before you begin, I did not invite him over. He was at the door this morning. In fact, I thought it was you at first.”  
“At dawn he shows up upon your doorstep?”  
“You do and quite frequently,” she sat beside Brenna and positioned the pail.  
“I would always find a chore to help you with. The milking, cutting firewood. He called the milking women's work!”  
She took Brenna's teats in her hands, “It is. You did it because you were trying to court me.”  
“And I still do. It is only polite to return a favor,” he squatted down beside her.  
“Have a care where you stand, you know how Brenna gets.”  
“Is there no one else in town he might pester, save the two of you?”  
She turned to face Loki, “He is not pestering us. We are the only people he yet knows in this village and so he comes to us. You would have him knocking on some stranger's door?”  
Loki snorted, “This we should remedy. I will introduce him to the villagers.”  
“He will meet others in due time but you cannot become so worked up each time you see him. Talk to him, perhaps you would like him. He is, like me, between worlds.”  
Eidra stood from the stool and Loki took the pail from her, “There is something about the man I do not trust.”  
“Loki, do not be like that.”  
He was about to reply when they heard a shout. He looked towards the cottage to see Angus striding up to him. He took the milk pail from Loki's hands before he could protest, “Ah, Sally is skilled wi' the needle. She says hie to breakfast.”  
Angus turned and headed back up the path to the cottage. Eidra caught hold of Loki's arm and muttered, “Do not even think of it.”  
He could feel his pulse began to pound, dark thoughts starting to cloud his mind and he flexed his hand to a fist. “I will toss him straightaway into the street.”  
“You shall do no such thing, he is a guest. I will dispatch him as quickly as I can. Come, lets have our morning meal.”  
Loki shook his head, “I have no appetite.”  
“So you would leave me here with him?”  
He whirled about, his hands cupping her face, “I would leave here with you,” his eyes searched hers, “Would you follow?”  
“Loki, I cannot be inhospitable”  
He let her go, “Come to Chris's on the morrow then. We will spend the day together.”  
“I cannot, I am going to fetch the Yule log, we must find a suitable one for the hearth. Yule is nearly here. We must also find an evergreen. Come with Sally and I. We will need a pair of strong arms and if you suggest Angus I shall not talk to you for a fortnight.” She turned and started for the cottage once again.  
A slow smile crept to his face as he caught up with her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, fastening his mouth to the spot where her neck curved to her shoulder. He felt her legs buckle slightly as she covered his arms with hers.  
“Oh my,” was all she could manage as her head lolled back to his shoulder and he smiled against her skin.   
“You make me lose all resolve,” she whispered.  
“As do you. I will come with you on the morrow.”   
He released her, allowing her to twist around and encircle his neck with her arms.  
“Will you? I shall pack a basket and we will make a day,” she pressed her forehead to his, “I have never known such contentment.”  
“Yes you have and with the blessing of the gods, you will again.”


	13. 13

Loki roused Chris from his bed the next morning to a rare sight. It had snowed overnight, only a bare inch but it made Loki yearn for Asgard, such a longing he'd not had in ages.   
“Of course it would have to snow. It makes a chore all that much harder. Boy will you see to the milking, that blessed cow has been lowing for full half an hour. I will put on a kettle so that we might have tea to warm us for our journey.”  
Loki ran to the barn to milk Chris's cow, Charlotte whom Chris had said he'd named after King George the Third's dear wife, Queen Charlotte  
“I am rather doubtful that a queen would take the gesture as a compliment.” Loki had remarked  
By the time he'd returned to the cottage with the milk pail, Chris had set out two mugs, a half loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, a few apples and was pulling the kettle from the fire.  
“This will hold us for a while, I'll wager.”   
They sat down at the table. “We shall cut our own Yule log and perhaps a small evergreen for the table though I am hard pressed to think of what to decorate it with. Truth be told, I've not felt a reason to be festive for many a year, not until you brightened my cottage, my boy.”  
Loki grinned, “And not a kinder man could I have had the fortune to meet. Who else would have opened his hearth and home to a stranger.”  
Chris tapped his mug to Loki's, “We are a pair indeed. Now make quick work of your meal for we are expected.”

Loki had volunteered the use of Chris's wagon though it was a cumbersome vehicle and they made slow going through the slushy mud.  
“Ah, I'd rather have taken the horses, however, we cannot very well expect to carry the log on our backs, can we.”  
“No, though Angus might try,” he grumbled as Chris glanced at him.  
“Ah yes, the new man about town, he's put a bee in your bonnet.”  
Loki chewed his lip, “He has his sights set on Eidra, I am sure of it.”  
“Oh come now, he's only just arrived.”  
Loki crossed his arms, “I fear my anger. My temper has always been quick, my reaction brute force in the basest of conflicts. When that thing which I hold dear is threatened, it increases my response a thousandfold.”  
Chris looked at Loki, “I think you are most definitely jumping the gun.”  
“Jumping the gun?”  
“Getting ahead of yourself, out of the starting gate before it's time....'tis a racing thing with horses?.... No?”  
“I shall take your word for it, and I ken your meaning but I do not quite share it. I have long followed my instincts and am often not far off.”

When they rolled up to the dooryard to find Eidra and Sally at the door talking with Angus, Chris cast Loki a glance and muttered, “Remind me of your instincts if ever we are in a dire situation. I shall follow your lead.”  
Loki jumped down from the wagon, Chris reaching the ground a bit slower.   
“Och, Loki,” Angus cried, “I hear tell you're stepping out for the day.”  
Loki curled his arm around Eidra's shoulder, “We are. Is it not early for you to be..” He had to find a decent word that wouldn't irritate Eidra, “visiting?”  
“Oh aye, I wasna visiting so much as taking your advice. I came over and helped them wi' the chores. I even figured out how ta milk the cows wi' a bit o' help.”  
Eidra felt Loki's fingers tighten on her shoulder as she interjected, “Sally showed him how while I was building up the fire in the hearth.”  
Chris bowed to Sally, “Well the time for lessons has come to an end for the day. We must be off.” He offered her his own arm which she took.  
“I must fetch the basket, I left it inside the cottage, I will be right back.” Eidra extracted herself from Loki's grasp and disappeared through the open door.  
“It was a fine bit o' advice you gave me too, Loki.” Angus clapped him on the shoulder and he had all he could do not to take him off his feet. “It's hard ta make friends when you're half dead.” At this Angus laughed at his own apparent humor.  
Eidra exited the cottage, closing the door behind her. Loki took the basket from her hands and headed for the wagon.  
“If you will excuse us, Angus, we have to go.” Eidra curtsied slightly.  
“Aye, I intend ta stroll the village today, meet new people, though I'm sure none will be as fair as you. Good day, Eidra.”  
He strode from the dooryard, nodding to Loki as he passed. Chris looked to Sally who had wrinkled her nose and he smiled, “Let us wipe away such unpleasantries and be off.”

The wagon creaked as it navigated the ruts in the road.   
“You see now what I meant?” Loki leaned over to Chris and whispered in his ear.  
“Duly noted,” They could hear the women talking quietly behind them in the bed of the wagon. “So my boy, how does one one celebrate yuletide where you come from?”  
Loki looked in the back of the wagon where the women had stopped talking to listen to him,  
“Ah, we have the tradition of the yule log as well, feasting, games, hunting, bonfires.” He paused, caught Eidra with a glance, wondering if she could remember that Jul, the night of their first coupling but if she did, she did not indicate as such.  
“What of the evergreen?” Sally asked.  
“We decorate them outside, to entice the tree spirits to return in the spring.”  
“Do you know,” Chris turned to face them as the horses plodded along, “What I miss the most about celebrating the holidays? Where I come from, they would decorate the shop windows with goodies in the spirit of the season. Large paper crackers filled with candies, every child would get one to pop open on Christmas eve. Then there were the brightly colored toys, boats, kites, exquisite dolls porcelain dolls replete with a full trousseau, dollhouses fit for a royal nursery. Drums for the boys, marbles, stick horses, wooden carved muskets, hoops, slingshots, bows and arrows..”  
Loki stared at him, a tilt to his head and he smiled as he glanced at Sally, “...the milliner's shops with their beaver skin hats, new bonnets, hoods, caps, kid gloves. One year, at the risk of finding myself walking back to town with her father's foot lodged in my backside, I bought a pair of pale lavender gloves for a certain young lady. They were thereafter her favorite pair.” Chris winked at Sally who rolled her eyes.   
Though Eidra had seen Sally pale when Chris mentioned the gloves, she had remained silent, not wanting to draw attention to it.   
“And the butcher's shops, their windows cluttered with great geese and turkeys hanging bottom up plucked and ready, hams, sausages to make stuffing with, capons, ducks. Oh the smell of a roasted turkey, what I wouldn't give to have a leg at this very minute. But the bakery, my bakery, that was the finest place to be during the holidays. Gingerbread, fruitcake, plum pudding, mince pie, sweetmeats, cakes, shortbread, pastys. Glorious excess now sorely missed.”  
Here Chris got a faraway look in his eye, “And those things were all wonderful and fine, but upon Christmas, we would go to the church to worship our Lord and savior, and celebrate his birth. I miss the sound of bells, the murmured prayers, the sweet fragrance of frankincense and myrrh, the sermons, why bless me I even miss the sermons.”  
Loki chuckled, “You lost me far back, my friend though I sorrow for you. Your passionate recall tugs at my heart. I can hear it in your words and I only wish I could restore those days.”  
Chris put his hand on Loki's shoulder, “Thank you my son, even if you did not see what I saw in my mind.”  
“I recall,” Sally began, her hand to her lips, “...the shops, walking the streets of Tralee..” Her voice dwindled and her eyes darted to Chris's once.  
“It sounds as if the holidays meant as much for you as it did for our people.” Eidra touched Sally's knee to bring her from her reverie.  
“Indeed, though for a different reason.”  
“Yes,” Loki looked at Eidra, “Jul is a celebration of fertility, and the stepping over from darkness to light, the winter solstice.”  
“And many babies are born in the seasons following, I'll wager.”  
Loki nodded, turning away from Eidra so she would not see the sadness written upon his countenance.  
“Chris, turn up this road ahead, there is a little clearing at the edge of a small forest, we found our evergreen and our yule log here last season.” Sally called to him. After a few minutes they came upon the clearing just as she had said. Chris pulled in the horses and jumped down from the drivers bench to help Sally off the end of the wagon, Loki having already done the same with Eidra.

“We will walk the forest this side,” Eidra pointed to her left at the line of trees across the clearing, “Looking for an evergreen, you two find suitable logs. Look for oak or hickory, they burn the longest.”  
Eidra and Sally scanned the trees as they walked. They had gone just a short distance from the men when Eidra turned to her, “How many seasons have you been here?”  
“Many, why do ye ask?”  
Eidra fingered the branch of a short evergreen tree and shook her head, “I saw your face when Chris started to talk of the yuletide celebrations where he hailed from. I thought you were going to be ill when he mentioned those gloves.”  
Sally kept walking, looking at the trees around her as if she hadn't heard her.  
“Sally, have you always had visions or am I only seeing them now that you've spent some time in his company?”  
Sally stopped walking, turned to her with a scowl, “ 'Tis all they are, Eidra. Visions, dreams. I noticed ye having a dream of your own when Loki talked o' how he celebrated yule in Asgard.”  
It was Eidra's turn to be flustered then. She had seen, in her mind's eye, a momentary vision of Loki poised above her, in the throes of ecstasy, his hair, longer than it was now, dropping over his shoulder to brush her face.  
“But I do not deny them. That I cannot remember save in my dreams, means nothing. I think they must be real. Something happened, though, which took my memories from me. You, however, do not even consider that possibility.”  
Sally was looking up at the branches of a medium sized evergreen. “I have at that. Don't be telling me I haven't. 'Tis simply this. If what I see are truths, then why do I suffer the same fate as yerself? Sally put her hands on her hips, “What about this one?”  
Eidra looked up at the tree and nodded, “It looks none too tall with a fine shape,” She glanced at Sally, “Have you not considered magic, or a curse that has brought you to this point?”  
“Yes, but then what is there for it? How to break it?”Sally took a strip of muslin and tied it to a branch on the tree, “Let us go fetch the boys.”  
As they made their way back through the trees, Eidra prodded her, “Have you thought of talking to Fin? Maybe he would know.”  
Sally threw her hands in the air, “Very well! I will strike a bargain with ye. If, as Loki has said, he is able to restore ye, I will ask Fin if he might know what it would take to do the same for me,” She sniffed and Eidra looked to her, “After all. Were ye to follow Loki off this island, I would be so lonely without ye.”  
Eidra hugged her then, “I would miss you terribly, Sally. Come now, let us think happy yuletide thoughts and go find those troublesome men.”

“My boy, watch carefully, the branch is ready to drop,” Chris called to him   
Loki nodded, “It is a fair size. We should get both logs from it. Step back.”  
Loki made one more stroke with his ax and the thick branch crashed to the ground with a ground shaking thud as he descended from the tree.  
“Now to split it,” He notched the branch and started to chop away at it as Chris cleared his throat.  
“As we were discussing, perhaps sooner than later, you should endeavor to see if Eidra is ready to take that trip with you. I sense the same...eagerness shall we say, in Angus as you do, though I wonder if I be thinking in such a way merely because you have put the suggestion into my head.”  
“You saw how he acted, and with the both of them. He is too bold, I say, and I will only tolerate so much when it comes to Eidra.”  
“Indeed,” Chris gazed around the forest, heard voices approaching, “Ah enough about the blaggart. Here they come.”  
Eidra paused to watch Loki swing the ax.  
“We have found a tree. We marked it with a strip of muslin. When you have finished, we will bring you to it.”  
“If his arms hold out,” Sally added as the branch split into two separate pieces.  
“Now to fetch one of the horses to pull them out of here.” Chris looked through the trees to the clearing.  
Loki set the ax on one of the logs and nodded, “I shall bring Robin,” he started off.  
“Wait, I shall walk with you.” Eidra called.  
Sally sat down on one log, Chris on the other, patting the log beneath him, “These will make fine fires, do you not think?”  
Sally nodded, “Tell me, these gloves you talk of...”   
Chris stared at her, unsure of what to say.   
“Did they have a flower embroidered upon the top in purple thread?”  
“Yes, yes!” Chris cried, “Do you recall them? Sally, say you do.”  
“I see them upon my hands, but I don't remember receiving them, do ye see?”  
“ 'Tis a start, Sal, 'tis a start and I shall take it as such.”  
Sally eyed him, “Don't be thinking 'tis such a big start as all that. I still can't figure out why I've been struck forgetful like Eidra...”  
“Give it time, perhaps that is all that is needed.”  
Sally sighed, “Very well. Time I have to give aplenty.”

The ride home was merry. Chris belting out old carols he recalled from his youth, teaching them the words and by the time they reached the dooryard, they were all singing. Colum, who happened to be passing by, stopped with his hands upon his hips, “Who's dying now that ye mourn so piteously?”  
“Ha,” Chris called to him, “Perhaps you, if you dare to insult such angelic voices.”  
Colum laughed, “I'd liken them to cats fighting in yonder alley.”  
Sally smiled, “Away ye rogue, finer music there never was.”  
Colum approached the wagon and helped Loki pull the larger of the two logs from the bed to carry into the house.  
“Ready for yule are ye?” Colum asked as Chris carried in the evergreen they'd dug up.  
“Yes, and looking forward to the feasting and the dancing as any man would.” Chris panted as he put the tree down near the fireplace.  
“Ah, to be sure, and the days getting longer.”  
“Slowly but surely.” Chris patted Colum on the back.

Loki had squatted down before the fire to warm his hands when he felt her arms slide around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder.   
“Two days hence there will be a reel and a feasting on Yule eve. Will you accompany me?” She whispered in his ear, the sensation serving to close his eyes as he covered her hands with his own.  
“I will, though you must not expect too much from me. I have been known to hide away at formal dances.”  
She nuzzled his ear with her nose, “I shall teach you if I must.”  
He smiled, “Or you may stay with me in the shadows and watch.”   
He turned his head to receive a kiss, fleeting. She laughed, gave the tip of his nose a flick with her tongue and stood up, he following suit.  
“Are you staying for the evening meal?” She asked him as they rejoined the others.  
“We have to get home to tend to the livestock, my dear, we've been gone all day.” Chris replied, “Another time perhaps. Come my boy, back we go to the homestead.”  
Loki nodded, pulled Eidra into a tight hug. “I shall see you on the morrow after my chores. He is a terrible slave driver.”  
“This Yule shall be one to remember,” She stroked his cheek, reaching for one final kiss before they parted. He knew then he was going to ask her again if she was ready to follow him from Tir Na Nog but not tonight. He would wait till Yule eve, perhaps the season would work its magic upon her.  
They waved to the girls standing in the dooryard as the horses started down the road and out of the village.   
Chris reached over and patted Loki's leg, “What a day, eh? What a glorious day.”  
“Indeed it was... Chris?”  
“Yes, my boy.”  
“I am going to ask her again if she will follow me from Tir Na Nog. I think she may say yes this time.”  
Chris was silent and Loki looked at him, surprised to see a tear standing in his eye, shining in the light of the lantern hung on the pole over the horses heads.  
“What troubles you, my friend?”  
“Ah nothing, my son, nothing to worry yourself about for there is nothing to be done for it and faith I hope she says yes with all my old tired heart but the truth of it is I shall miss you so very much.”  
Loki nodded, his voice taut with emotion, “Why not ask Fin what there is to be done for you and Sally?”  
Chris waved a hand at him, “Ah both parties must be willing to take a leap of faith.”  
“Still, I will ask him. It bears trying.”  
“Perhaps God will take pity on a poor soul like me in the end, do you think so?”  
“I do not know about your god. I only know that nothing is gained by inaction, pity or not.”  
Chris tapped the reins to speed the horses a bit, “If you can help Sally and I, you will have performed more than one miracle.”  
“Send a prayer to your god for that then.”  
Chris made the sign of the cross, “I already have.”


	14. 14

He stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, his bloodshot eyes scanning his brother's old bedchamber as if expecting to find him hiding somewhere in the shadows. Loki's absence troubled him more so during high festivals than during any other season. It had been particularly difficult the Jul after had been imprisoned. Thor had brought him food from the feast but Loki would touch none of it, that is to say, he would touch none of it to eat. Loki had hefted the gold serving platter and thrown it at the bars, such was his rage, still new and raw. Thor had quietly picked up the platter and left him to his anger. He had hoped that father would relent and let him take Loki into his care but three seasons had passed in the same manner.  
Loki had been gone now for nearly four months and though there had been no rumblings of trouble in the nine realms, he'd had plenty of time to complete his pilgrimage. There was no reason that Loki should not be back in Asgard, new and whole again as he claimed he would be, yet another Jul was nearly upon them and Loki's absence tore a gaping hole in his heart.  
He lifted his stein and drained the rest of the contents, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand, stuck his head out of the room and gazed down the corridor to his own bedchamber door. Dim light streamed from beneath. Even Sif had pushed him from the bed this evening, chiding him for his melancholia.  
“Asgard is well rid of that silver tongued devil. Perhaps he has found someone on Midgard who can tolerate him.”  
“I tolerated him for many years until he fell in love with that wench. She destroyed him, she haunts him in death as much as she did in life.”  
Sif had crossed her arms, “I warned you that your actions would martyr her. It would have been better to banish her. Return her to her father's house.”  
He had challenged her reasoning, telling her Loki would have only made matters worse by following his servant girl wherever she was sent. They had ended up in a shouting match that had culminated with his ejection from their chambers. He had sought solace in mead.  
He wandered the halls of the palace that night, standing in the middle of the Great Hall listening to the silence, making his way to the arena where he'd lost his fight with Loki for the accursed girl. To the stables, the courtyard, all in the name of escape from his memories, his loneliness.  
Torch light spilled through the Throne room doors, slightly ajar, illuminating the marble floor of the corridor, glinting off the mica flecks deep in the stone. Perhaps father was still awake, he'd had sleeping as of late. Thor put his hand out to open the door, froze as he heard quiet voices coming from within. It was the old seer, Astrid, and she was talking to Odin.  
After Loki departed Asgard to begin his pilgrimage, Thor had considered strangling the crone in her sleep for putting such an idea into his brother's ravaged mind. He had asked the Allfather's permission to follow Loki, to see he stayed on the path, that he would go where he was supposed to, but Odin had denied his request, pointing out that this was Loki's journey to make, alone.  
Thor stood at the door, straining to hear what the old crone and his father were discussing so late at night.

 

“Consider, Mighty Allfather, that Loki has found what he was looking for, peace.”  
“At what price? Where would he find such a prize on Midgard?” he could hear his father's consternation.  
“The price for him is a pleasure to pay. He is content, I see it.”  
“Thor pines for him. They are brothers in spirit at the very least.”  
Astrid cackled, “Thor wishes Loki returned so he may keep him beneath his thumb. What has he to compel him to return? A cold cell?”  
“If indeed I saw a change had been affected during Loki's sojourn, I would consider pardoning him.”  
Thor moved to the crack, peeking through to see them standing at the top of the dais before the throne.   
Astrid clapped her hands together, “Perhaps if you had made such an offer to him when he set out, he would have hurried home.”  
“Astrid, can you not see? I fear that if he does not find the peace which he seeks....”  
“That you shall be forced to put him down like a rabid dog?”  
“Woman, you speak of the prince regent!” Odin pointed a wavering finger at her.  
“Nay, I speak what is in your mind. That such an ending would rid you of the fear you feel for the offspring of the Jotun. We need not speak of the end of days.”  
Odin banged his staff on the floor, the echo ringing through the cavernous room, “I know no such word as fear! I am all too familiar with words like destruction, murder, thievery, lying. All of which Loki has committed in abundance. I would not see it begin again.”  
She threw a hand at him, “Then why did you let him go in the first place?”  
“Because you advised me to do so!” He roared.  
At this she straightened up, mimicking a scepter in her hand, waving it in a dismissive gesture, “I did not know I commanded the mighty Allfather to do my bidding.”  
Thor clenched his fists together. The old crone had no right to talk to father in such a manner.  
“That your argument was convincing does not imply that you command me, but that your words had wisdom behind them.” He backed up until he dropped down onto the throne, his head in his hand and sighed.  
“I asked merely if you knew of his whereabouts. I grow weary of sparring with you, old woman.”  
“I have given you my answer then, content?”  
Odin gave a half-hearted grunt, “You are dismissed.”  
Astrid bowed unsteadily to Odin and started down the steps with the aid of her assistant. Thor retreated behind one of the pillars lining the corridor, waiting for them to leave the throne room. The crone knew where Loki was. Astrid shuffled from the throne room, speaking quietly to her ever present assistant who guided her along by her elbow.  
“The king worries not about Loki, but because of him. Did you hear he could not call him son? The petty old fool. I fear if he becomes anxious, he may consider searching for the dark prince,” Astrid wrung her hands together.  
“The king's health is poor. To set out on such a venture would only weaken him further. He would only attempt such a thing if the circumstances were dire.” Trena comforted her.  
Thor kept his distance, remaining close enough still to hear them.  
“I would warn Loki myself were I younger, and Tir Na Nog not so very far away. He must hasten in his quest. Perhaps I should speak with Magnus, perhaps he would consider traveling to Midgard...,” Astrid paused, shook her head. “No, he is too close to the spoilt crown prince.”  
Thor's anger was at a fever pitch but he restrained himself. In any case, he now had all the information he needed. When they were well away from him, he headed down the corridor away from the Throne room, towards the palace library to the map room within.

 

Loki lay on his cot that evening staring into the firelight, Chris across the room, in his bed doing the same.   
“On the morrow, we will have two lovely ladies upon our arms,” Chris murmured.  
“We will.”  
Chris glanced over at Loki, “Tell me, my boy. If she accepts your proposal to run away from this honeyed land, this limbo, what then? Where will you go, what will you do? Will you return to this palace you speak of?”  
“I have long pondered such a thing. Neither Odin nor Thor shall ever accept Eidra. I have a few loyal friends outside of the city in a small village called Rialo. I thought I would bring Eidra there. Perhaps we would build a cottage.”  
“And you a royal? How would you survive? Farm the land? Raise cattle? In all my years, I've never met a princely farmer..”  
Loki sighed, “Yes I would farm the land. That much I know how to do. My brother and I were required to oversee the planting each year and we learned much at the steward's elbow. Eidra knows how to raise and breed cattle, tend a garden. She sews, knits. We would do what we had to do. I only know what we cannot do and that is to return to live under the same roof with my brother. When I return to Asgard, I will renounce my title.”  
“You love her that much?”  
“Yes.” Loki smiled to himself.  
“Many a king has been dethroned by such feminine wiles.”  
“What good is a king without his queen?” Loki looked at Chris.  
“He may be still a king.”  
Loki pulled his blanket tighter to him, “I learned long ago, without Eidra by my side, all the privileges, the power, the trappings of royalty cannot compare, they are but empty raiments.”  
Chris was quiet, then, “Well said, my son. You've grown wise in your time here.”  
Loki let his eyes drift shut, “I have learned much.”  
His response was silence, Chris had beaten him to his dreams.

 

The knock at Eidra's door gave her pause. She was certain Loki would not be out to town this early. He had told her that night previous that he would be helping Chris with chores. She peered first at the window beside the door and was chagrined to see Angus standing there. She held the handle waiting until he knocked again and she opened the door.  
“Ah ma fair lady, allow me to help wi' the milking this morn,” he smiled, striding into the cottage and scooping up the milk pail.  
“Should you not be at your own cottage helping Cormac?”  
Cormac had been nice enough to take Angus in though he had allowed Angus complained a powerful lot about the absence of television and hamburgers, likening Tir Na Nog to a little slice of hell.   
“He even wondered if this was punishment for something he'd done in his last life. Faith and I wonder if he is punishment for something I did.” Cormac had half-joked with her.  
“Och I was already up a couple hours ago, I did my own chores and am now here to help wi' yours.”  
He winked at Sally who simply nodded. “Are you lassies attending the reel this evening?”  
“We are,”Sally answered. She swung the kettle over the fire, “We plan to step out with Christopher and Loki.”  
Angus laughed, “Ah Eidra, I was going to ask you to accompany me. 'Tis a sad affair for me to go stag.”  
He grinned as she looked away, “I am spoken for, Angus. Besides, there shall be a number of fair maidens there to parade about on your arm.”.  
“I see no ring on your finger, therefore..,” he waited as if expecting her to answer for him then rolled his eyes, “You are no' taken yet. Could you no' give me a chance first?”  
She took the pail from his hand. “I repeat, I am spoken for. Now if you will excuse me, I shall do my own milking thank you.”   
She threw her shawl around her shoulders and stepped into her boots, she had wisely used the rabbit fur to line them and she relished the soft comfort it afforded.   
As she shoved past him out the door, Angus followed her. Sally ran to the storeroom window to watch, grabbing the poker from the fireplace just in case she was needed.  
Eidra strode along the path to the barn, incensed that he was still following her.   
“I thought you would take my reply to mean good day,” She called over her shoulder.  
“And I thought you would be flattered wi' my offer. What would it hurt to have a change o' scenery now and then?”  
Stony silence filled the air as she thumped the stool down beside Corrine who gave her a startled look.  
“Well then will you at least allow me one dance? Surely he canna be averse to that?”  
She watched the milk stream into the pail. She had never wanted Loki here more than she did this moment.  
“I cannot promise anything. Now if you will excuse me, I wish to finish my chores.”  
Angus nodded, clapped his hands together, “Well it wasna rebuff in the very least I bid you good morning, lass.”  
She glared at him as he swaggered from the barn, a confidence in his step. Had she the chance, she would have tripped him. She continued to milk Corrine, forcing her thoughts to Loki, of his visit the night before. How she had crept onto his lap as he sat in the rocking chair before the fire. She shivered, leaning her forehead against Corrine.   
They had begun to kiss, jumping every time they heard Sally shift in her bed. She could still feel him hard against her backside, hear his ragged breathing in her ear as she ran her tongue along the line of his jaw. His strong hands cupping her breasts through the fabric of her bodice, the sensations coursing through her as his fingertips found the hard buds beneath the linen caught her breath in her throat. She had begged him to stop and he had obliged, holding her tight to him, whispering in her ear, “You do not know how difficult it will be to sleep tonight, thinking of you.”   
She had been angry at herself still afraid to let go of her inhibitions, her fear.   
“Foolish girl,” She had chided herself, “What care you about sacred laws and rituals anymore? Let love take its natural course.”  
Sally had heard her talking to herself in the common room as she banked the fire for the night, calling to her. “Are ye well?”  
“I am fine.” There was an edge of frustration in her voice and she had fallen asleep thinking of Loki, likely, she thought, as much as he was thinking of her.

Corrine shifted position, drawing Eidra back to the present. She pulled the pail from beneath Corrine and moved to Brenna with a bit more haste. She would have much to do before the reel that evening. There was the goose to ready for roasting, the apple cake to make. She had dispatched the goose the previous day, scalded and plucked all its feathers, putting them aside for pillows and coverlets. Then she had singed off the small pinfeathers and left it to hang. She looked up at it as she strode from the barn, “I shall return for you later.”  
She had already chosen to wear her dark green gown, the white bodice embroidered all over with tiny pink roses. Sally would help her pin up her hair. She wanted to shine for Loki tonight. A shy smile crossed her lips, staying there long after she had started her next chore.

Loki wiped the blade of his dagger on the muslin cloth over his arm, cleaning the stubble from its edge.  
“It is beyond me why you do not grow a warm beard during winter,” Chris stood beside him, trimming his beard with a pair of scissors, every once in a while turning his head to regard himself in the looking glass hung on the wall above the washstand.   
“I prefer to be clean shaven.” Loki shrugged.  
“Well many a death of cold was caught by a bare throat is all I'll say to it,” He laid the scissors on the stand. “Sit at the table now and I shall plait your hair as you asked”  
Loki rested his forearms on the table as Chris took an ivory comb to his long locks, separating them into three hanks. “Have you always worn your hair long?”  
“Before Eidra passed, it was to the middle of my back. I cut it in mourning when she died.”  
“Your hair was longer than this? Good heavens, boy. It must have been a chore to maintain every day,” Chris braided in silence for a moment, “You know where I learnt to braid? Making bread. I would braid loaves on holidays and special occasions.”  
Loki templed his hands beneath his chin, “I used to braid my brother's hair and he mine for ceremonies and important events like feasts for visiting dignitaries or blots.”  
“Blots?” Chris stopped, “Whatever do you mean?”  
Loki started to turn his head but Chris tugged at his hair, “Ah ah, keep your noggin forward.”  
Loki smiled. “A blot is a festival to honor a god, hero, a good harvest. Sacrifices are often offered up.”  
“Good heavens, you don't mean humans do you?”  
He chuckled, “It depends upon the occasion. Human sacrifices were often done to appease the spirits in times of severe drought, an extended bout of bad weather, or other calamity. It was considered an honor for a family member to be chosen to travel to the ancestors.”  
Chris clucked his tongue and shivered, “I cannot imagine such a barbarous act. There must be easier ways to appease these so called spirits, surely.”  
“Sacrifices are rare now,” Loki fidgeted with the leather strip on the table before him, “We have had an unparalleled era of prosperity with the Allfather's rule.”  
Chris took the leather strip from Loki's hand, tying it at the end of the braid and stepped back, “ 'Tis done. A few short strands escaped at the sides but see how you look.”  
Loki stood before the looking glass, a slow smile spreading across his face as Chris puffed up proudly. “Well done.”  
“Do you think yourself ready?”  
Loki surveyed himself, he had chosen the best tunic he had, a tan affair with black embroidered working at the wrists and hem, and a pair of breeches.   
“If only I had thought to bring my court dress, I would feel better put together.”  
“Let the man make the clothes and not the other way around, boy,” Chris took their cloaks off the pegs and clapped him on the back, “She will be happy you're there. Don't worry yourself so. Now, the ladies await. Let us be on our way.”

Eidra adjusted her bodice again, pinched her cheeks again to bring the color , “I think I shall put my hair up. Loki likes it that way. Are you sure I look good?”  
Sally rolled her eyes as she twisted her hair into a loose bun, “Of course ye do. Ye could look like a princess in a burlap sack.”  
“Oh Sal, you are not serious are you?”  
Sally had put a pin in her mouth and could only answer, “Mmhmm.”  
Eidra turned to the door when she heard the jingle of harnesses, “They're here. I have butterflies in my stomach!”  
“Oh silly girl, 'tis only Loki and Chris.”  
Eidra stuck out her chin, “I know, but I have never attended a dance with Loki. I am all a-tremble.”  
She ran to the door and opened it just as Chris was about to knock.  
“Come in, we will be ready soon.”  
Chris bowed and entered, Loki following behind. She noticed his braid and, smiling, wrapped her arms around his neck, giving the braid a gentle tug that sent ripples of pleasure down his spine.  
“You look handsome with your hair pulled back.”  
Loki gave her a mock pout, “And I did not before?”  
“Well yes, but you look ready to step out.”  
He leaned in and kissed her, his tongue brushing lightly at her bottom lip, smiling as her body respond in kind.  
Sally took her cloak from the peg and glanced at Chris, “I am finished, I believe. How do I look?”  
Chris grinned widely, “A vision, my dear, a true vision.”  
Sally struggled to keep the smile from her face, turning away, “So I am ready indeed.”  
“Then in the spirit of the season,” Chris cried, “let us join the others and make us merry.”


	15. 15

The full moon cast a blue-white light over the snow capped roofs of the village cottages creating a beautiful scene as they made their way to the Guild hall which was already ablaze with warm candlelight when they arrived. Loki held open the door for the others to file in.  
“Ah Loki! Chris!” Colum called over the music as he spotted them, “Come on, join in!”  
Loki saw Fin on the podium at the end of the hall with the other musicians, working the fiddle, his hands a fluid grace as they flew along the strings.  
Chris waved at Colum, “I've not visited the food yet, and I should like a mug of ale before I attempt anything so elaborate.”  
Loki nodded absently in agreement. He had been unable to take his eyes off Eidra from the moment he'd walked in the door of the cottage. He felt proud to have her on his arm. They stood off to the side, watching the couples dancing in the middle of the floor. Cormac was on the other side of the room chatting to Jaime. Eidra waved to him, he returned the gesture and started to make his way over to them.  
“He still has a slight limp from that ankle injury, poor boy,” she leaned to Loki so he could hear her over the music.   
“Eidra, yer lookin' lovely tonight,” Cormac bowed, “Loki, yer the envy of every man here this night to have such a beauty on yer arm.”  
“Thank you, Cormac. I am a lucky man,” Loki squeezed her hand.  
Cormac surveyed the dancers, “D'ye think I might beg the favor of the next dance with her?”  
Eidra looked at Loki who gave her a nod, “I trust you will bring her back in one piece, my friend.”  
Cormac chuckled, his face coloring slightly, “I'll treat her like gold....milady?”  
Loki smiled while Cormac guided her to the floor, joining three other couples. It was then that he saw one half of one couple was Angus. His smile dimmed as they all began to dance around in a circle, his attention centered on where she was at all times. They circled four times around the floor, then stopped in a square with two couple paired off to circle about one another, switching partners back and forth while the other couple kept time, clapping their hands. Loki knew then that Angus had told him to ask Eidra to dance, he was sure of it as Cormac and Eidra were then paired off with Angus and a short blond girl to whirl around each other.  
He let a low growl in his throat as he watched Angus twirl Eidra around the room and hand her back to Cormac, not once but twice. He took careful note of the steps as well; there would be no one else dancing with her tonight lest it be him.  
The dance was lively. Eidra's cheeks were flushed by the time they returned to their original places and bowed to one another and the room erupted with applause. Loki watched as she shook Cormac's hand with a smile and moved through the crowd, Angus's eyes following her every move.  
Loki took Eidra's hands as she reached him, “You are grace defined.”  
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, wiping her forehead, “I am going to fetch us some cider.”  
She started to drift into the crowd but he shook his head, guiding her to a nearby chair, “You sit, I shall do the fetching.”  
He looked above the crowd, spotted the banquet table and made his way toward it, nodding to people along the way. Siobhan stopped him and asked where Eidra was, Loki pointing in the direction he had come from, Fin who was taking a break with the musicians for a mug of ale smiled at him and he gave a wave, scanning the crowd for Chris and Sally but they were nowhere to be seen. By then, he had reached the large carved wooden cider bowl and was in the process of dipping out two cups when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened and turned to see Angus smiling at him.  
“Loki, ma boy, I didna know you were here.”  
“I accompanied Eidra here to the reel,” Loki muttered.  
Angus raised an eyebrow, “Now then, you didna' dance wi' her. I thought she was alone.”  
“I allowed her a dance with Cormac.”  
He set the full mugs down on the table. His hands were starting to shake and he didn't want Angus to notice. He stared into the cider where floated cinnamon sticks and cloves as he heard Angus give a derisive laugh.  
“Allowed it? I didna' know she needed permission. I guess I'll have ta ask you if I might have the next dance wi' her.”  
He rounded on Angus, “You may not have the next dance, or the dance after that! If you wish to ask, you may do so but rest assured she will not accept.”  
All at once, Angus dropped any pretense of congeniality, pointing at Loki's chest, “I'll wager she will. Look at you wi' the affected manner of the gentry, dressed like farmer. You are over proud of yourself. I've knocked many a man down a notch twice your size. Laid out a cap'n in a fair bout...”  
Loki took a step towards him, the mugs forgotten, “I am a prince of the realm,” his voice was low, menacing.  
Angus roared with laughter. People had begun to notice their heated exchange, “Where is your wee scepter then? In your breeches?”

Eidra sat waiting for Loki, watching the dancers. At one point she heard voices raised above the music, chalking it up to merrymaking revelers. Another shout drifted across the room as people started to glance around the room. Eidra stood up, but being short, she could see nothing. She ventured a step onto the seat of the chair, raising herself higher above the heads of the crowd. What she saw made her nearly lose her balance as she jumped to the floor and began to push her way through the crowd.

Angus's head bounced off the guild hall wall, his teeth clacking together. Loki had shoved Angus hard, an arm across his chest. He immediately responded with a jab to Loki's side that broke his hold as Loki gasped for breath and stumbled back, pain radiating from his newly healed ribs. His vision swam for a few seconds, affording enough time for Angus to grab him by the arm and toss him face first into the wall he'd been against a moment ago. “I saw the way you held yourself, you give away all your weak spots!” Angus yelled.  
Loki's foot came up just before his body contacted the wall and he propelled himself backwards, toppling Angus to the floor behind him, landing across Angus's chest. He dropped his weight as hard as he could, swift turning so he was straddling the stunned Scotsman.   
“You whoreson! You think you can best me?” He came across Angus's jaw with a right hook that would have sent a weaker man to sleep off the encounter as a bad dream but Angus readjusted his jaw, reached up before Loki could rear back for another blow, grabbing the front of his tunic, pulling him forward quickly to unseat him then tossing him to the side while he tried to regain his feet.

Chris and Sally sat on a bench outside the hall, talking quietly while they shared a wooden platter they'd piled with food. Chris was certain he could not remember a nicer night in recent times.   
A young man from the village burst through the hall doors a short ways from them, looking out into the night at another man who'd come outside to relieve himself of the cider he'd drunk.  
“Phillip! Oy, come on. There's a fighting goin' on. Hurry yer arse!”  
Chris paused a moment, suddenly jumping up from the bench they'd been sitting on, nearly spilling Sally to the ground.   
“Excuse me, my dear,” he reached for her hand, “I believe that is our cue.”

 

Eidra made the edge of the circle just as Angus threw Loki from atop him. She had been about yell to Loki when something flew through the air and clattered to the floor, skittering to a stop at the toe of her slipper. She looked down and it took all her strength to stop her legs from buckling beneath her.   
The object was at once familiar to her, as familiar as her own two hands. She felt as if she was dreaming for it could not be here and yet she could not deny her own eyes. She bent down and picked up the Uruz, feeling the hum of power at her trembling fingertips, the same throb of power she had felt whenever her father would take it out to show her.   
He would allow her to hold it but briefly, sometimes with tears in his eyes. She had asked him one day why he seemed so sad and he had finally told her she would never be able to possess it. That she could never become a woman.   
She looked up at the two men before her, still grappling on the floor and at the top of her voice, shouted, “LOKI!”  
Her cry stopped them in mid swing. Loki looked up at her, a bead of blood at his lip where Angus had caught him with a fist. As his hand flew to his neck at the sight of the necklace in her hand, she knew.

The hall was silent.   
“Where did you get this?” Her voice was reedy, tremulous.  
Loki scrambled to his feet and started towards her but she backed away.   
“WHERE?!” she repeated, louder this time.  
“Please, Eidra, let me explain” Loki held out his hand but she slapped it away. Shock plain upon his face, he stared at his hand in disbelief.  
“Answer me!”  
“You gave it to me,” He swallowed drily, wincing at her response.  
“Impossible!” she spat, wanting to hurt him with her words, “I was never meant to have it and if by some miracle It had come into my possession, I was to give it to the man I loved. I cannot ever imagine giving it to you!” She was shouting now, tears streaming down her face,“Why would I give you such a treasure?”  
“Please, Eidra let us talk of this in private.”   
She strode up to him, anger fueling her feet, “How did you come by it? Did you steal it? Did you force my father to give it to you over some twisted dealing?”  
“Your father did indeed give it to me but of his own free will to redeem your honor. I swear it!” He made to put his hand on her shoulder and she shied away.  
“To redeem my honor? What could have happened to sully it so that Eldan, Holder of the Sacred cup of Volundr would give away his most sacred possession to a....a ..charlatan!”  
He took another step toward her, “I am no charlatan. I came by the Uruz honestly out of the love I felt for you.”  
“How can I believe anything you say?”  
She watched as a tear rolled down his cheek to match her own and she felt as if she was going to be violently ill. She bent forward and took a deep breath. Feeling his hand touch her back, she swung her hand at him, “Do not touch me!”  
The people of the village had started to back away slowly, affording them a small bit of privacy save Chris who stood nearby with Sally, mouth open, speechless.  
“Eidra, I speak the truth. Why else would I come here to this village? I had to find you.”  
Eidra stood straight, “You are a mage. I have no doubt you have enchanted me. Likely you put the visions into my mind so that I would fall in love with you!”  
“I used no spells, no magic. If I had thought to do so, would I have courted you, come to your cottage every day only to be rebuffed? Would I not have simply spirited you away with me?”   
She held the Uruz up to him, “Why did you not show me the necklace when first we met if you claim to speak the truth?”  
“It is my most cherished possession. I feared you would take it from me,” he opened his arms, “I swear upon my life, I love you, Eidra.”  
She felt a fresh spate of tears begin, “I could never love you! No one could ever love you! You are a liar, a thief!”  
“Eidra, no,” he moaned reaching for her as she backed further from him, clutching the Uruz tight to her chest.  
“GET AWAY FROM ME!”   
“Please.” Loki cried, his voice cracking.  
“Get out of my sight!” Eidra screamed at him, turned, looking about her at everyone, Cormac, Siobhan, Sally, Fin fighting through the crowd to reach them, then she shoved her way past Sally who was close on her heels, calling to her, “Eidra wait!”  
Chris turned, searching for Loki, kept turning until he'd been completely around, but all he found was Angus, still standing there, his mouth hung open like a landed trout.  
“A fine mess you've made of it all, you blaggart,” Chris muttered at him as he started for the outer door of the guild hall.

 

Once outside, Loki dropped to his knees on the ground beside his horse, the pain of her words so great he could not catch breath, his tears dropping to the dirt before him. At first he could do naught but moan, his arms wrapped around his stomach. Finally, he lurched to his feet, taking the reins, hauling himself up into the saddle, spurring the steed into a gallop through the town toward the cottage he and Chris shared.

 

Chris threw open the doors of the guild hall, spying Loki's horse missing from the hitching post they'd tied up at when they'd arrived.  
“Hell and damnation!” he loped over to his horse, staring him in the eye.   
“Why didn't you stop him, you old nag?” he chided as he mounted the stallion and kicked in his heels.

 

Loki knelt in the light of the lantern hanging by the front door, folding his second tunic and stuffing it in his pack when Chris came charging inside.  
“Loki my boy.......you were gone..... like a shot,” he leaned forward on his knees, trying to catch his breath, “What are you doing?”  
“Packing,” he picked up a pair of breeches from the end of his cot.  
“Whatever for?” Chris reached for the poker beside the fire and began to move the logs around, opening the fire, brightening the cottage interior.  
“I am leaving,” he started to cinch the top of his pack closed.   
“Leaving?” Chris cried, “To go where?”  
“I am returning to Asgard.”  
“But what of Eidra? You cannot leave without her or all is lost.”  
Loki looked up at him, “All has already been lost. I will return to Asgard alone to bear out my own curse for as sure as your fate is, so is mine own.”  
Chris walked over to him and patted his shoulder, “Wait a bit longer, my son. Do not give up hope.”  
All at once, Loki was on his feet, hands into fists at his side, “You old fool! How long have you hoped? How many nights have you lain here with none for company but the sounds of the clucking chickens and the howl of the wolves. How many seasons have passed in this fashion? How many grains of sand have slipped though the hourglass? Enough to cover the shores of this cursed island? Enough to cover the shores on the whole of Midgard? And yet you talk to me of hope.”  
Chris felt his throat burning as he held back angry tears, “An old fool I may be, but better to be an old fool than to run away, turn tail like a coward, for you see that time has won out. Sally tolerates me now, talks to me, who knows what might be next.”  
Loki bent over and picked up his pack, “You are blessed with patience but I can bear no longer the pain of living without her. I cannot fathom trying to tear down the walls about her heart yet again,” his shoulders abruptly slumped forward, the pack dropping back to the floor. He sat down heavy on the cot, his face in his hands, “Chris, I am weary, so very weary.”  
Chris sniffed, wiped his eyes and walked over to sit beside him, placing a hand on his head. “Loki, if you must leave, do so in the morning. I will accompany you to the shore and see you off if this be the path you wish to take.”  
Loki hesitated, leaned back against the wall, “I have failed.”  
Chris looked down at the floor, “I suppose 'tis possible, I am sorry, my son.”  
“I should have shown the Uruz to her in the first place,” he felt the spot where it had lain at his chest for the past five seasons and he closed his eyes.   
“I am ready to go home,” he stood, lifting his pack again, “I take my leave of you, my friend.”  
“Ah, Loki, you're welcome to remain here with me. A poor exchange for the company of a good woman, I fear,” Chris rubbed the back of his head. “Are you sure, my son? ”  
Loki gave Chris a tired smile, “I am. This was a foolish venture. The only good thing to come out of it has been meeting you,” he pulled Chris into a hug, “I hope you find happiness with Sally.”  
Chris couldn't speak, he nodded his head until Loki was out the door and only then did he sniff loudly, pulling a kerchief from the pocket of his breeches. He stood watching the fire in the hearth for a long time afterward.

 

Eidra groped her way blindly through the throng of people in the hall, making eye contact with no one until she reached the far door where Chris had come in, strong armed it open into the night air. Dropping to her hands and knees, she purged the contents of her stomach onto the cold wet ground, felt soft hands at her back,   
“Oh dear, Eidra,” Sally murmured, “We should never have come to this reel.”  
Eidra knelt in the wet earth for a long time, sobbing as Sally stayed beside her rubbing her back until she could bear it no longer.   
“Come, Eidra. Let us head home. Me legs are numb straight through to the bone.”  
She made her feet and then pulled Eidra to stand, supporting her.  
“Sally, what do I do?” she sobbed as Sally steered her around the outside of the Guild Hall and down the road to their cottage.  
“Forget him, forget he ever existed,” Sally squeezed her shoulders.

Eidra still had the Uruz held tightly in her hand when they walked inside the cottage. Sally lit a lantern as Eidra sat down her rocking chair, her sobs having dwindled to hiccuppy breaths.  
A few moments later while Sally was setting a kettle of water over the fire, there came a knock on the door, gentle. Eidra jumped up from the rocker as Sally walked to the window, peering outside.   
“It's Fin.”  
She opened the door to him and he bowed low, “Might I come inside?”  
“By all means,” Sally curtsied, stepping back.  
“Thank you,” Fin walked to the rocking chair Eidra had returned to, hands clasped.   
“I didn't think it would turn out to be so interesting a night.”  
“I would have chosen a different word.” Eidra replied hoarsely.  
“Might I see your necklace. That is if you be willing to let it go,” Fin held out his hand.  
Her fingers uncurled around the opal stone ever so slowly, the inner fire glowing like rainbow moonlight as she placed it in Fin's hand.  
Fin held it then, closed his eyes, and Eidra glanced at Sally.  
“Powerful magic lies within this circle.”  
“It is a gateway to the realms,” Eidra sniffed, “And Loki should not have had it.”  
“Are you so sure? Have you not had any revelations associated with it?”  
“How do you know of my visions?” she sat back in the chair, looked to the fire, blinking as yet another tear rolled down her cheek.  
Fin only smiled, as Eidra reluctantly replied, “The only revelations I know of are the ones he put there.”  
Fin opened his hand, “You don't really believe that do you?”  
“What other explanation is there? Why can I not remember what I see? When I look at the images why can I not........feel them?”  
“Half of your soul is gone,” Fin held the Uruz in the air by its leather thong, “it lies somewhere else and it is the key which will connect your feelings to your memories. Tonight, when you retrieved the stone, did you have a vision?”  
She thought back. When she'd picked up the Uruz from the guild hall floor, memories had flooded over her, sharp and clear. She saw herself tying the Uruz around Loki's neck, lying beside him as he leaned over her, moving between her legs.   
She shut her eyes, put her hand to her mouth.  
“He tells the truth, Eidra. He is the one who can restore you. Do you love him?”  
Eidra nodded her head vigorously, her eyes still closed.  
“Then go to him and tell him lest he lose all hope,” Fin took her hand, closed it around the Uruz.  
“I said such horrible, hurtful things to him. I was so angry, so afraid,” she pressed her hand to her chest, standing from the rocker, “What if he turns away from me, rejects me as harshly as I did him? ”  
Fin smiled, “You love him now as you loved him then. Your feelings for one another transcend time, your lives are intertwined. You are the reason he was here.”  
She walked to the peg by the door, fetching her cloak and fastening it about her neck, “Sally, I must go to him.”  
Sally hugged her fiercely, “Go then, hurry.”  
Eidra grabbed the lantern from beside the door, running from the house to the barn, stumbling in the pale light of the moon. She snatched the saddle from the stall fencing and turned to the roan who was stamping nervously.  
“Come Rose, we have ground to cover.”


	16. 16

He focused upon putting one foot in front of the other as he moved down the road before him. He really had no direction. Chris had begged him to wait till morning but it would not have mattered, daylight, full dark. He would not have noticed if he'd met the ocean at that point, he would keep walking until the waters closed over his head. His heart had begun to heal as his reunion with Eidra had blossomed into a new relationship. Now it was in pieces again, shattered. He stumbled to his knees, then rose again to stagger forward, the moonlight illuminating his path. As soon as he was clear of this cursed island, he would call the Bifrost, return home to his cell and resume his trek to Hel. He could feel his anguish again dissolving to rage. Locked away was the one place where the world would want him now, of that he was sure, anyplace else was unsafe.

 

Eidra dropped from her horse before she came to a stop, nearly tripping to the ground. She ran up to the door of Chris's cottage as it swung wide.   
“Who goes there?” Chris cried, spying Eidra, “Good heavens, child. What are you doing here?”  
“Where is Loki?” Eidra took him by the shoulders, “I must see him.”  
A sad smile spread on Chris's face, “He's gone, lass.”  
“Go....gone?” She gasped leaning against the doorway.  
“Yes, for some time now. He's going home, the poor soul.”  
“Oh Chris! Which way did he go?”  
Chris looked at the floor, “I confess I could not watch him leave. I do not know, though I would assume if you did not encounter him on the way here, he must have gone further down the road towards the sea. He said when he had arrived on this accursed island, he had come from the shore.”  
Eidra ran to her horse and hauled herself up into the saddle, “I cannot let him leave.”  
“Then ride with all due speed, dear girl. Bring him back!” Chris shouted as she took off at a gallop.

She kept the horse at a good trot, stilling the lantern with her hand as she scanned the seemingly endless empty stretch of road ahead, her panic rising. She urged the horse forward a bit faster.

 

Loki's eyes had adjusted to the moonlight as he walked. He could see the dark expanse of ocean at the bottom of the hillock atop which he stood, the moon glittering off the rolling surf. He pulled his pack higher on his shoulder, nearly considered dropping it by the side of the road for all he had need of it. He'd descended the hill but a short way when a sound caught his ear. He stopped suddenly and turned his head. The whinny of a horse? He peered back the way he'd come, willing the darkness to yield to him but saw nothing. He hesitated only a moment longer, sure his mind had tricked him, turned back and kept walking.  
Another dozen steps or so and he was sure of it now, he'd heard the sound of hoof beats on the hard ground. He stopped again. Looking back, he spied a pinpoint of light in the darkness. It was jogging about in the air and for a moment he wondered if the spirits of this land had found reason to chase him. He considered ducking into the trees that lined the road beside him as the light moved closer, feeling for the hilt of his short sword until he realized it was a horse and rider. 

She could see the silhouette of a man far in the distance up the road. She was terrified to yell his name lest it be a stranger. She slowed the horse to a canter until the light from the lantern began to cast far enough before her and her words caught in her throat.  
“Loki.” She whispered at first then louder again, “LOKI!”  
She reined back, dropped from the horse started to run.

The pack slid from his shoulder to the road with a clatter as she reached him, grabbing him by the shoulders, her words pouring out in one breathless, high pitched volley.   
“Chris said you left you were going back home and I was so afraid so scared that I would never find you again that I was too late to tell you how sorry I am I did not mean what I said, oh gods, I did not mean it,”she burst forth with a sob, “Oh Loki, I love you, I love you with all my heart, please, do not leave, please! It does not matter the visions I have seen whether they are real or some imagined fairy tale, it only matters that I love you here and now!”  
She fumbled in the pouch at her waist and drew out the Uruz. Taking his hand in hers, trembling, she placed it in his palm and wrapped his fingers about it,  
“Please do not leave."  
Loki could barely breathe, his mouth felt dry. He pressed the disc into the palm of his hand, the familiar hum of power, the comfort he felt with it back in his possession bringing hot tears to his eyes. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, holding her as she sobbed against his chest. “Eidra,” he buried his face in her hair, breathing deep, “I cannot live without you.”  
Eidra burrowed further into his embrace, “You do not have to. I will follow you wherever you wish me to go,”she tipped her head back and kissed his chin, “I promise you this.”  
He took her by the shoulder then and pried her away from him, “You will follow me out of Tir Na Nog?”  
She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress, sniffled, “Yes I will,” took the ends of the leather thong that held the Uruz, reached around his neck, slipped her hands beneath his hair and tied it around his neck.   
“It belongs with you.” she whispered into his ear, reclaiming his neck with her arms.  
It was some minutes before they broke their embrace. Loki climbed up on the horse and pulled her up to sit in front of him as they headed back the way they had come.

 

“I will pack when we return to the village,” she murmured as they neared Chris's cottage.   
Loki tightened his arm about her waist, “I must speak with Fin first.”  
Eidra craned her head to look back at him, “Why?”  
“Because he must tell me what I have to do to to bring you out of this realm safely.”  
“What!” she cried, nearly twisting herself off the horse, “I cannot simply leave here with you?”  
“I do not know, now sit still, you will spook Rose,” he tugged on the reins as Eidra relaxed ever so slightly against his chest.   
“When I first arrived here at the village, Chris brought me to meet Fin. I told him of my plight. He told me that you could be restored, made whole again if I could but convince you to leave this island with me. Now I must ask him how.”  
“You mean to say he did not tell you what you must do?”  
Loki shook his head, kissed the shell of her ear, “He did not, nor would it matter if he had. I will do what I must.....tell me, what made you change your mind and come searching for me?”   
She settled against him, “You might thank Fin for this as well. He came to my cottage and spoke with me. I revealed to him that I had a vision as soon as my fingers touched the Uruz at the Guild hall. I saw myself giving the necklace to you. ”  
“And you still did not believe me?”  
He saw her pout in the dim lantern light, “I was frightened, and I was angry. You should not have started a fight in the middle of the hall.”  
“Did you ask him what he said to me? He is uncouth, cocksure.”  
She reached down, squeezing his knee, “And you are not proud? You would have been wise to walk away from the fool. ”  
He reined in Rose and jumped down as they reached Chris's dooryard, offering his hand to her to dismount.   
Chris threw open the door of the cottage, rushing outside, his arms wide, “Thank heavens you found him!”  
“Proud I may be, however, I am not uncouth.”  
Chris slid between them then, put his hands up and covered their mouths, “If I must drag you inside, I will. Now shut it, the both of you, let us all agree to disagree.”

 

They sat around the table talking. Chris had warmed some cider and she held a mug in her hands.  
“I will accompany Eidra back to her cottage and then I will see Fin,” Loki reached over and put a hand on Eidra's arm.  
“You'd do well to watch for Angus. The hour is still early and the festivities might yet be on at the Guild Hall.”  
Loki avoided Eidra's warning gaze, “I shall be sure to avoid him at all costs,” he drained his mug, “But first things first.”  
He stood from the table and Eidra followed suit, “I will return tonight.”  
Chris nodded, “I shall keep vigil, my boy.”

 

Loki paused with his hand on the door of the Guild Hall. He had brought Eidra back to the cottage, reassuring her he would return after he spoke to Fin. She had held his hand and kissed it then, holding it to her cheek until he gently pulled it away, restating his promise.

He took a deep breath and opened up the door. Inside, the crowd had thinned considerably but the music was still playing. He stood until the number was finished, ignoring the stares of the surrounding revelers, waiting for Fin to see him. Fin leaned over to one of the musicians, the bodhran player, and whispered something to him, then he stepped down from the podium and made his way over to where Loki stood, close to the door.  
He planted his hand on Loki's shoulder, “I see you didn't quite make it all the way to the shore, my friend. How can I help you?”   
“She has agreed to accompany me to Alfheim. Tell me what else I must do.”

He had reached for the flute of wine that Fin was handing to him but his hand now paused in midair.  
“Midgard? The gods wept. I have little tolerance for that realm.”  
“My colleague lives there, has done so quite happily I might add, for many years. He is a necromancer and he is also a mage like us.”  
Loki took the flute from Fin's hand as Fin waved him to sit on the divan. Tania appeared from the darkness of the adjoining room and nodded to them both, “Milord, do you need anything more from me?”  
Fin shook his head, “No, you may retire if you wish. I shall attend myself if need be.”  
Tania bowed her graying head, “Thank you, Milord, the goose is ready for the morrow. I shall be up early to tend it.”  
As she retreated back into the darkness, a candlestick in her hand to light her way, Fin turned back to Loki.   
“Now what was I saying?...Ah yes, Midgard. His name there is Martin Rutledge. He holds the last element needed to restore Eidra whole to you.”  
Loki sat back in the divan, “The other half of her soul? This Midgardian knows where it rests?”  
Fin smiled, leaned forward and picked up the Uruz where it dangled from his neck, “No, he has something more you must obtain, but she has been with you all along.”  
Loki looked down at the opal medallion, shimmering in the firelight of the hearth and felt suddenly, woefully ignorant.  
“How could I have been so stupid. How could I not have known?”  
Fin let the medallion drop, “What do you think led you to madness all those past seasons, why you could not forget her? It was love yes but something much more.”  
Loki fingered the Uruz, feeling the slick surface, the comfort he derived from its thrum as he stroked it and he thought of the many quiet nights in the darkness of his cell when even he feared the darkness, the desolation. He would hold the Uruz tight in his hand and would feel peace wash over him allowing him to sleep, to escape the nightmare he was living, even though such peace was short lived as the anguish would awaken with him anew.  
“When I obtain the final element, then, what must I do next?” Loki sat forward again, impatient.  
“You return with her to Alfheim. Martin will know what to do, he will tell you how to proceed from there,”   
Fin stood from his chair, strode to the writing desk tucked beneath the window beside the fireplace and produced a piece of parchment. He dipped a long narrow quill into the inkwell perched on top of the desk and started to write. After a few minutes, he opened a small tin beside the inkwell, sprinkled some fine sand on the letter as he glanced at Loki. “Take this with you.”   
Fin folded the letter, took a small red block of wax and held it to the flame of the candle sitting on the desk until it began to melt. He brought the block to the parchment, dripping some of the wax onto the seam of the letter. He took a long round stamp from beside the inkwell and pressed it into the hot wax.   
“In times such as Martin lives in, one cannot be too careful about who one receives. This letter with my stamp on it will assure him you are who you claim to be and that your cause is just.”  
Fin handed Loki the letter, held up his hand to his temple and closed his eyes, “Ah, I must be failing in my old age, you need to know where you must go to find him.”  
He returned to the desk and was back in moments with a small scrap of parchment. Upon it was written an address: Mr. M. Rutledge, 147 Pillory lane, Bury St. Edmunds, UK.   
“And so I am to find this man and ask for his help.” Loki looked at the address again.  
“Yes and rest assured, you may trust him. You will see.”  
Fin stood, “That is all I can tell you. Beyond this I know nothing more. Good journey, Loki. May it be successful.”

He walked past the Guild Hall which was still abuzz with merriment, the letter and address in his hand. When he knocked softly on Eidra's cottage door, he could see a light brighten the window as t the door creaked open. Eidra stepped back to let him inside, put the lantern on its hook by the door and turned to him, “Did you speak to Fin?”  
“Yes,” he held up the letter, setting it on the table, “I must leave for Midgard.”  
“What?” She moaned, “Why?”  
He put his hand to her face, “For us, I must seek the help of Fin's friend to restore you.”  
She was shivering, “Fin has a friend upon Midgard?”  
“I am afraid 'tis so.”  
Do you promise to come back?” Eidra wrapped her arms about his waist, “I do not care if you never find this Midgardian, only that you come back to me. Swear it.”  
“I do swear it, not even death can keep me from you.”  
She cast a glance over her shoulder at Sally's bedchamber door as she took his hand.  
“Eidra, what...” Fingertips covered his mouth, then grabbed the lantern which threw shadowy patterns across the walls as they entered her bedchamber where she let his hand loose and sat the lantern on a short chair beside the bed.  
“I know what I have seen in my mind, I do not know what is truth and what is imagined but I have seen the desire upon your face and I wish to see it again.”  
She drew him down to sit at the edge of her bed and knelt before him. He started to protest, to speak, but she held up her hand, taking the heel of one boot in the palm of her hand, working it off, setting its twin beside a moment later. She stared at his feet as if she had never seen such a wondrous things before. Stroking a finger down over the top of one, she was rewarded with a chuckle as he put his hand down to stop her, “Eidra, it tickles.”  
She looked up at him and smiled, a playful look upon her face as she rose, parting his legs, leaning between them, her hands slipping beneath the edge of his tunic, fingers splayed wide as they climbed their way up his chest.  
“You are playing a dangerous game, my little minx.”  
She nodded, her palms warm at his sides as her hands rose further, forcing his tunic with it until he was made to draw it over his head. She took it from him and buried her nose in it.   
“I must have a shirt of yours when you go so that I may keep your scent with me,” she dropped the tunic to the floor beside the bed, then stood up, “Lay upon the bed, my love.”  
He did as he was bidden, laying his head upon her pillow. She knelt on the bed and was at once straddling him, her nightgown pooling around his hips. She leaned forward catching him in a rough kiss, her hands sliding around behind his head, his lacing together at the small of her back as their tongues entwined in a breathless dance. The kisses broke into an erratic exploration of his earlobe, his jawline, throat, nipping hard just below his chin, her hands drifting to his shoulders as she traced the taut sinew down his neck for another hard bite, bringing his hips up from the bed to arch against her.  
His hands found the hem of her nightgown, sliding beneath the linen to cup her breasts. After five long seasons apart, his self-control was tentative at best and he hesitated but she was in no mood for soft caresses. She pressed his hands beneath hers and threw her head back, mouth open, soundless. A stroke of his thumb across one nipple made her cry out, casting a glance at the wall beyond which Sally now slept. When no answering call met her ears, she looked down at Loki and grinned. Pulling her gown over her head, she tossed it to one side revealing a body as heartachingly beautiful as the last time he had seen it.   
He drew his hands down the flat of her stomach to the cleft between her legs, she lifting herself to allow him access, nearly tumbling forward as his fingers began to play among the soft folds, gathering moisture. She knelt above him, their lips inches apart as they panted together, her moans, whimpers becoming louder as she ground herself along his wrist.   
He was so hard, he ached. The desire to possess her fully again after so long nearly spurred him to lift her from him and drive her to the bed but he wanted her release even more than his own now. Had dreamed of it ever since he had lain eyes on her standing there in the cottage so long ago and now his reclamation of her body was complete as she collapsed upon his chest, her knuckle pressed between her teeth, head turned to the crook of his neck. His hands worked at the lacing of his breeches then and she rose up, unsteady, until he guided her downward. She tensed at first contact, then he felt her relax as she slid down to envelope him.   
She lay on his chest, still for long moments, his hands at her waist when she rose upright, meeting his thrusts and matching them, the force lifting her from the bed so that she put her hands upon his shoulders to steady herself. The primal groan coming from deep in his throat stirred her once again as she rode him, their animal coupling driving her thoughts as she suddenly unseated herself and knelt beside him.   
“Please, ” She whispered, smiling as she watched him eagerly fumble with the strap of his dagger holster, hearing it clatter to the floor, kicking his breeches free, feeling the bed sink as he positioned himself behind her without a word and entered her again. The sensation, the complete oblivion, robbed her of all control as she buckled beneath him to the bed, his arms around her waist the only thing holding her to him.   
Her submission served to drive his passion and it was now a monumental effort to keep their coupling quiet as she arched against him in raw abandon, the coverlet upon her bed now gathered in clenched handfuls at her chest. She felt him grip a hank of her raven hair, tugging at it, leaning over her until his lips touched the spot at the nape of her neck and her eyes flew open wide with a vision so intense she convulsed around him hard enough to draw a hiss from his clenched teeth.  
“My dearest heart..”   
His rhythm broke, fingers digging into the flesh at her hips as he stiffened with a guttural cry, and she felt him spill into her, reveling at the heat, the wetness that seeped forth, warm on the skin of her thighs.   
She slid to the mattress, he following her as they fought to catch their breath, planting kisses, soft nibbles at her shoulder, their hearts thundering in unison. They lay there one atop the other until he softened to slip from her and the cold of the room grew too much to bear. She pulled the coverlet from beneath their bodies and drew it over them, nestling her head in the crook of his arm, unable to wipe the smile from her face as she gazed at his silhouette in the lantern light. They lay there silent for a bit, enjoying the simplicity of closeness while she drew little designs on his chest with her forefinger.  
“I have a request, Loki,” she murmured and he hugged her close,   
“Anything my love.”  
“If by chance when we return to Alfheim and you restore me, I am cursed to forget us now, this place, my friends, will you remember and tell me so that I might perhaps try to remember as well?”  
Loki pulled her up so that she was lying across his chest. “I will do what your heart desires.”  
“Be careful with that statement, I may hold you to it,” she giggled softly.  
He sat up, lifted the coverlet and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I am afraid though that I must break your heart tonight.”   
“Must you leave already?” She cried, kneeling behind him, draping her arms about his neck.   
He was reaching for his breeches but he put a hand up to her face, pressing her cheek to his. “I intend to leave this night. More than anything, our reunion here has fueled my determination to complete my quest and restore you to my side.”  
She heaved a great sigh, reluctantly withdrawing to her pillow, “I suppose we will have time enough to enjoy one another's company after your return.”  
“We shall have forever, Eidra.” He pulled up his breeches and grabbed his tunic from the floor, feeling her hand caress his thigh.  
“How long shall you be gone?”  
“I do not know. Thus my reason for leaving now. Soonest begun is soonest done.”  
Eidra drew her nightgown over her head, following him back out into the common room where he sat in the rocking chair to pull on his boots.   
“Do not forget this,” She handed him the letter and the parchment as he stood. He took them and kissed her, his free hand reaching around to cup her head.   
“I will be back, Eidra,” He traced the line of her nose down to her lips with a forefinger, “Remember, not even death.”  
“Not even death.” She repeated as he disappeared into the night. She stood in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her until she could no longer distinguish his form in the darkness then she closed the door to wait for his return.


	17. 17

Loki knelt down on the floor before the hearth and closed his pack. “I will have to find something suitable when I reach Midgard.”  
Chris stood behind him, his arms crossed, “I wish to God I could go with you, lad. I hate to think of you alone out there. You say the world has changed and not for the better. I see my dear friend stepping into that hell.”  
Loki shook his head, “I would not allow it even were you able to join me. It is much too dangerous.”   
He kept to himself that he felt Chris would only slow him down. It was nothing but a simple observation and he wished to make all haste on this journey. The less time spent in Midgard the better.   
“I will be back as soon as possible,” he rose from the floor, adjusting his tunic, “It is time.”

 

The sun was brightening the horizon as the seashore came into view. Loki felt the sickening tug at his innards as he crossed the barrier of Tir Na Nog into the land of the living. He dismounted and handed the reins of the horse up to Chris whose steed pawed the ground nervously. “I wonder whether he dislikes being so close to Lightning or so close to the edge.” Chris jerked his head towards the shoreline.  
“I'd say a measure of both.” He patted Chris's leg, “Goodbye, my friend.”  
Chris held up his forefinger, “Not goodbye, my boy, rather, until we meet again, it sounds less permanent.”  
Loki smiled and gave him a nod, “Get safely inside the barrier.”  
As Chris backed away from him, he turned the Uruz between his fingers and said “Midgard, Great Britain, Bury Saint Edmund's.”

Chris saw what seemed to be a hole open in the fabric of the landscape before him until he could no longer distinguish the seashore beyond it. An image appeared inside, coalescing into a verdant unfamiliar countryside capped over with gray clouds. Loki looked over his shoulder one last time, stepped through the portal and it winked shut as if it had never been.  
“Godspeed, my son,” he murmured, turning the horses towards home.

 

Thor slid from his horse, striding up to the immense stone gate, the standard of Asgard, the rune Ansuz carved into its surface.   
“Heimdall,” his voice belied the calm demeanor he struggled to maintain, “I wish for you to open the Bifrost.”  
Heimdall had been standing beside the door, watching him approach, his arms crossed. “Where does the crown prince wish to travel today?” His eyes scanned the four royal guards behindThor.  
Thor forced his ire down, “I must travel to Midgard, to the country they call Ireland.”  
“For what purpose?”  
Thor stepped closer to him, his cloak swirling about his feet, “Is it your place to question my request?”  
“I question merely out of base curiosity. You have but to ask milord.”  
Heimdall turned to the gate and swung it open, revealing a landscape of green rolling hills, church spires and cottages. “Is this not where you wish to go?”  
Thor frowned, “There is a place called Tir Na Nog..”  
Heimdall waved his sword and the scene before them shimmered, showing a vast island shrouded in mist.  
“The crown prince wishes to travel to the world of the Tuatha De Dannan?”  
Thor turned to Heimdall, “What say you gatekeeper?”  
“Milord, you would do well to learn more of the nine realms. The spirits of Alfari and Sidhe alike go to rest upon that island, along with the souls of the Midgardians whose beliefs are of the ancient ways. It is an enchanted island.”  
Thor looked back at the guards with him, “Come, we have wasted far enough time.”  
Heimdall watched them walk onto the shore of the island far below and glanced back at the spires of the city rising above him as he closed the gate once more, resuming his position, staring straight ahead, standing guard.

 

It had taken Loki the better part of an hour to find a clothesline with anything on it, leaving him to shake his head in wonder.  
“Do they not dry their clothes outside in this realm?” he muttered as he slipped into a small tool shed behind a large gray house to change from his tunic and breeches into a pair of denim jeans and a black long sleeved jersey that seemed a tad big on him. He stuffed his clothes in his pack and took out the address, staring up and down the country lane which he had found himself standing on as he stepped through the portal. He felt impatience rise in him as he began to walk, grateful in the very least for the warming sunshine, wishing he'd taken a coat with him as well.

After he'd come a distance without any sign of Pillory lane, he reluctantly admitted he would have no choice but to ask for directions. He spied a young dark haired girl leaning on a weather-beaten fence surrounding a yard inside which a small black puppy ran in circles around her legs. Putting on his friendliest demeanor, he approached the fence and cleared his throat.  
“Excuse me. Could you point me in the direction of the town of Bury St. Edmund's?”  
“Bury St. Edmunds!” The young girl cried, “You're standing in it!”  
Loki wondered at the power of the Uruz to set him where he needed to be though he gritted his teeth. Her voice grated in his ears.   
“I am new to the...area. I wish to know where Pillory Lane is.”  
The young girl leaned on the weather-beaten fence, “Pillory Lane? If me memory serves, it's about a mile or so down this road. I believe it's on the left. You can't miss it.”  
He glanced down the road the way the girl was pointing, “Thank you,”  
“Hey,” she called to him, “Are you here long?”  
Loki shook his head, walking backwards a couple steps, “Just visiting,” he turned around and started off at a trot.  
“Pity,” the girl sighed as he retreated into the distance, “Nice arse.”

 

Chris heard the voices before their owners crested the hill before his cottage. He'd been on his way to the barn to clean out the stalls, instead he leaned on his shovel, waiting until the small party had nearly reached his gate.   
A tall blond man with long hair pulled back in a pony tail headed a small contingent of men. The blond man was dressed in a tunic over which he wore a finely tooled brown leather brigandine, the plates coming together across his chest, forming a symbol Chris had never seen. Leather greaves, heavy boots and a long red cloak completed the picture. Secured about his waist was a scabbard which held a long sword, clinking in time with his gait, upon his right hip was fastened a large mallet done in elegant scrollwork with a leather wrapped handle. The four men accompanying him were dressed similarly though their armor was less fine and they carried broadswords.  
As the tall blond man approached, he gave Chris a slight bow.   
“Good sir, we desire fresh water. Might I beg the favor of the use of your well?”   
Chris gestured to the well standing in the dooryard and nodded, “Help yourself.”  
The man smiled, motioning to his comrades who filed into the yard with him. They took out their flasks, waiting until the man pulled a bucket full of water up by the winch and set it on the side wall of the well, each of them submerging their flasks in turn to fill them.  
The man took a long draught of the water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and holding up the flask, “You have good, sweet water here. Could you tell me how far is it to Tir Na Nog?”  
Chris scuffed at the dirt with his boot, “You stand upon it, have been for quite some time.”  
The man nodded, seeming to ponder his reply,“I am looking for my brother. Is there a village nearby?”  
“There is. Tell me, is this brother of yours dead?”  
“He is not, at least to my knowledge.”  
The back of Chris's neck began to prickle, “Then is he of the Sidhe or the Tuatha De Danan?”  
“He is not.”  
“Then why would he be here, my good man?” Chris gazed at the party who were whispering amongst themselves.  
“I think he may have come to seek out one who has passed on,” replied the tall blond man, whom Chris had gathered was the leader of the group, “My brother's name is Loki. Have you heard of him?”  
Chris gripped the handle of the shovel so hard it hurt, “I confess I rarely go into town, the name is not familiar to me. Perhaps you have been misguided.”  
The man shook his head, “I think not. I heard the old seer quite plainly. He is here. I will go into town and search for him.”  
Chris threw his shovel over his shoulder as nonchalantly as he could, “Well I wish you good luck and Godspeed. I must be off to tend my animals.”  
“Thank you for the water.” The man nodded to him and whistled to his company as they filed out of the yard, continuing down the road into town.  
“Blast it, Loki, make haste!” He muttered as he watched them out of sight. 

 

Loki stood before a large pale blue house, the parchment on which the address was written, clasped tightly in his hand. It was a grand manor which reminded him vaguely of Fin's fine home with its large windows, ornate workings around the front door, the wide short steps leading up to it, the columns holding the overhang high above. He continued around the circular drive and up the steps where he searched for a knocker at first. Finding none, he simply knocked on the door, waited for a minute then knocked again. He was on the verge of peering into one of the windows when he heard someone yelling inside, the voice nearing the door until he could make out the words, “....blasted doorbell again Anna!”  
He stepped back at the sound of a lock turning in its tumbler. The door opened wide to reveal   
a tall older man dressed in a brown tweed suit with a white shirt and red vest peeking underneath. He had a set of silver horn rimmed spectacles perched on his nose, magnifying his pale blue eyes and a long face, serious, though good humor seemed to simmer just below the surface as he smiled. His complexion gravitated toward ruddy, and he had a shock of gray curls which met at the top of his head over a burgeoning bald spot. He was about to speak when quick footsteps from inside the house caused him to roll his eyes and turn around.   
“I've got the door, Anna.”   
His tone was condescending. Loki spied a young woman screech to a halt just behind him. She wore a simple yellow dress and an apron, her blond hair was done up in a bun.   
“Forgive me. I didn't hear the doorbell....,”  
The man put a finger to his lips as her words died away and she shifted her sad green eyes to the floor. Loki was reminded vaguely of Corrine.  
“You didn't hear it because the doorbell isn't working,” At this the man reached outside of the door past Loki to a small lit button on the door frame and pushed it. There came a clamor of bells from within as the man glanced up at Loki.   
“My mistake it would seem. Didn't you try the doorbell?”  
Loki shook his head, “Doorbell?”  
The man's eyes narrowed as he studied Loki, “How may I help you?”  
Loki bent down, dropped his pack to the doorstep, unlaced it and fished out the letter. He stood upright then and asked, “Are you Martin Rutledge?”  
The man seemed to consider the question, “That all depends. What have you there?”  
“I have a letter from Fin.”  
Loki placed the letter in the man's shaking outstretched hand, whereas he brought the seal up closer to his face to study it.   
“My goodness, Fin. It's been so long. Come in, come in. Anna!” He called, turning and nearly toppling the young girl who hadn't moved from her spot, “Gracious me, go fetch some tea and sandwiches and bring them to my study for myself and my guest will you.”  
Anna curtsied and was off on a trot as Loki stepped into the foyer. The house inside was as grand as it had seemed outside. A double staircase directly in front of them led to a balcony overlooking the foyer from the second floor. Tall multi-paned windows lined the walls which were done in pale yellows, greens and blues. To his left, through a large arched doorway was a sitting room with two settees and a number of chairs, a piano and a large fireplace topped with a marble mantle. Various paintings lined the walls and sitting atop a pedestal there was a strange bust of a man draped in cloth with a laurel wreath on his nearly bald head.  
To his right, there was another large room where the man now led him. It was lined almost entirely with shelves of books from floor to ceiling. Dominating one wall was a large cabinet that reminded him vaguely of Clotho's cabinet in his chambers though this one was much wider. There were overstuffed chairs placed around the room, a podium upon which to rest large tomes. A long low table with massive claw-foot legs made of some dark wood held an ornate candelabra in the center of a long table runner embroidered with strange symbols on a dark blue background. A fireplace held a roaring fire and he noticed a portrait above the mantle of a lovely young brunette woman in an elaborately decorated green dress.  
The man gestured to one of the chairs, nodding to Loki, “Sit down, please.”   
He traced his fingers over the elegant design stamped into the wax for a moment before he broke the seal of the letter and unfolded it, tilting his head back to read. Once or twice he glanced over at Loki with a look of astonishment on his face until finally, he finished the letter and placed it on the podium beside him.  
“I am Martin Rutledge,”  
Loki smiled, relieved. A clatter of dishes turned their attention to Anna who was carrying a large tray filled with a small white teapot, two cups and a plateful of sandwiches. “On the table, Anna, thank you.”  
Anna set the tray down on the low table, curtsied and scurried out of the room with a backward glance at the two of them.   
“She's a good girl, wonderful cook. Please, help yourself.”  
Martin walked to the table followed slowly by Loki who looked over Martin's shoulder as he fixed his tea.   
“There's cream and sugar or honey if you prefer.”  
Loki took the cup Martin offered him, dropped a cube of sugar in it and stirred, took a sip.  
“Sandwich?” Martin held up the plate and Loki's stomach growled in response as if threatening him with bodily harm if he refused. He picked up a sandwich and sniffed at it.   
“Chicken salad. It's quite good,” Martin said as he watched Loki nibble at a corner of the sandwich.  
One bite was all the persuasion he needed. He'd not eaten since the morning of the reel and he finished the sandwich in quick time.   
Martin stood there smiling at Loki, “I haven't seen you since you were a child.”  
Loki nearly choked upon the sip of tea he'd taken as he paused to stare at Martin.  
“Pardon me?”  
“I was present at your marking ceremony when Odin brought you before the High Council,” Martin clapped his hands together, looking him over, “I was a visiting dignitary, mind you, but he invited me to be a witness. My, but you have grown. I think the last time I saw you, your brother, the crown brat, had you slung over his shoulder and you were beating him about the back to let you down. You couldn't have been but five seasons old.”  
“Forgive me. Fin did not tell me you were from Asgard.” Loki studied him.  
“Alfheim, to be precise,” Martin laughed, “I am Alfari. Like Fin.”  
“I must then ask...”  
Martin smiled warmly, “Yes, my boy.”  
Loki held the teacup like a lifeline, “Did you know Eldan Denari?”  
Martin nodded, “Very well I must say. I once had the seat beside him on the High Court.”  
Loki bit his lip, Would he help him if he knew what he was about to do, if he'd been on the High Court himself? Loki wondered what Fin had written in the letter.  
“...And I knew his daughter. I met her while visiting his estate.”  
Loki looked down at his boots, hoping against hope that Fin was correct when he said Martin would help him even as he expected the old man to evict him from his house.  
“As I recall she was an ethereally lovely young woman.”  
“She is,” Loki closed his eyes, picturing her in his mind and his heart fairly swelled with love for her, “As fair within as without.”  
“I travel to Alfheim from time to time. I heard of the horrible way in which she died. I was shocked that the High Court would be capable of such a verdict. I had hoped the old ways would have relaxed a bit though it is often said stricture provide structure.”  
“Antiquated ways,” Loki spat, “Serving only to keep Alfheim in an age of darkness.”  
“Perhaps. And you were willing to rebel against these old goats for love of a woman. You, a prince of Asgard.”  
“For the love of one woman, yes. Now I wish to restore her.”  
“Indeed, and it could be no other could do so as she died for you.”  
Loki nodded, unwilling to catch Martin's stare, his throat stinging with sharp tears.  
“She did.”  
“So you traveled to Tir Na Nog to find her again. A love so true deserves another chance does it not.”  
“Please, yes,” Loki could barely keep his seat.  
“Let me see it then,” Martin held out his hand and Loki tilted his head.  
“See what?”  
“The Uruz, my boy.”  
Loki slipped the Uruz over his head and handed it to Martin who held it, cupped his other hand over it and closed his eyes.  
“My boy, there is such power in this medallion. It is a portal, that you know. It holds the other half of Eidra's soul now.”  
“I know. What must I do to restore her?”  
Martin handed the Uruz back to Loki with a gentle press of his hand.  
“Come to my cabinet,” Martin crooked a finger at him, “The equation is relatively simple.”  
Martin swung open the doors to the cabinet interior. Where Clotho's cabinet had held a hundred or so bottles of elixirs and potions, draughts, this cabinet must have held a thousand. Bottles and packets of all shapes, sizes and colors lined the deep shelves though he seemed to know exactly where to look as he reached up to the top shelf and drew down a bottle of clear liquid. He then bent over, pulled out a drawer at the lowest shelf and withdrew a small stoppered glass vial.  
He walked to the table, uncorked both bottles and poured a goodly amount into the vial, replaced the stopper and handed it to Loki who held it up to the light of the fireplace.  
“Doesn't look like much does it?” Martin chuckled. “The most difficult of tasks often start deceptively with the simplest ingredients, but you might well recognize the place from which this water came. It is water from the Spring of Mimir.”  
“Then the solution truly was within my grasp all along?”  
“Yes but you did not know. You could have bathed in the waters everyday and still the solution would not have been revealed to you.”  
“Then what must I do now that I have it?”  
Martin's face turned grim, “That is the difficult part.”

 

 

The knock on Eidra's door made her jump from her place by the fire where she sat knitting. Could Loki be back already? Sally, too, had stood from her rocking chair as Eidra glanced out the window, disappointed to see Angus standing there with a group of men, one tall and blond, the others with him dressed as soldiers in oddly familiar uniforms.  
She opened the door, blocking his way in with her body, “What do you want Angus?”  
Angus smiled at her, “I was walking along minding ma own business when these gentlemen approached me and asked if I knew the whereabouts of a man named Loki.”   
She looked at the strangers. The tall blond man smiling darkly at first, then appearing confused at her scrutiny. She was suddenly awash in gooseflesh; this grave looking man knew her, somehow, he knew her.  
“I do not know of a man named Loki,” she crossed her arms.  
“Eidra, 'tis a liar you are...” Angus began but the stranger shoved him out of the way,growling, “Wench, tell me where he is!”  
Eidra stared at the stranger, chin raised defiantly, “How dare you speak so rudely to me, you overgrown ogre..!”  
The stranger's hand shot from out of nowhere, connecting open palmed with her jaw hard enough to bounce her head against the door. She stumbled forward nearly losing her balance as she heard Sally's scream cut through the ringing in her ears. Rough hands caught her, driving her back into the house. Angus's shout of anger was cut short as the door slammed shut.   
Eidra looked up at the grinning stranger holding her by the shoulders and wished at once to rip the smile from his face. She swung her knee up into his groin but was met with a hard thump which angered her even more when the stranger laughed.   
“You should know I come armed but if you are so eager at last to get at what is behind my codpiece, I shall oblige you later. Now, I am anxious to know where my brother is,” he gave her a hard shake which rattled her teeth together, “And you shall tell me.”


	18. 18

Chris paced back and forth before the fireplace. Every so often he would step outside and stare down the road, hoping to see Loki. What if it had taken longer to find this man he'd spoken of? What if he was lost? It was heading towards sundown now and he'd not seen the stranger return from town. He was considering riding into town himself and paying a call to Eidra. He'd paced halfway to the door again when there was a loud thump upon it from the other side, then a hard knock. He swung the door wide and was startled to see Angus spill over the doorstep, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  
“Angus, whatever in the world...,” Chris pulled Angus to his feet where he leaned over the table, one hand in the air.   
Chris looked through the doorway out into the yard, “Where's your horse?”  
“I ran all the way here!” he gasped, “I don't know how t' ride a fecking horse!”  
“Well out with it man. There must be a reason you've graced my cottage with your presence.” Chris put a hand to his shoulder.  
“Oh aye. Did you see the band of marauders that came through here not long ago? Weeping Christ, I need water.”  
Chris trotted out to the well with a mug, pulled a pail of water up to the edge of the well and dipped out a mugful. When he returned inside, Angus was sprawled in one of the chairs at the table.  
He took the mug and drained it, “Ah, thankee.”  
“Come along, tell me what's happened,” Chris held out his hand.  
“That fair man, the tall one, he asked me if there was a one who would know where Loki was, and no' thinking, I told him about Eidra.”  
Chris slapped his hands atop his head, “Good god! Please tell me the ladies weren't at home.”  
“I wish ta god I could. He asked me ta bring him to the cottage, which I did. He seemed to know Eidra but she didna look like she knew him. He asked where Loki was, Eidra answered him crossly then the bastard cuffed her across th' head. The guards wi' him strong armed me out of the yard and the only thing I could think of to do was go find the two of you. Where's Loki?”  
“On an errand, I'm expecting him soon, I hope.” Chris poked his head out from the doorway into the waning light.  
“On a fecking errand? Now? Well what do we do? We canna leave her like that.”  
“Let's give him a bit more time, I am old, I would be no great help against the likes of those fellows and you are but one.”  
Angus nodded, “I'm no' bad at combat but five might be a wee bit more than I can handle. We'll wait a little longer, then I'm going back to town.”  
Chris glanced toward his musket hanging above the doorway, sighed and drew it down, “Still I shall make preparations. 'Tis a fool and a coward who stays in the shadows while evil pounds at the door,” Chris peeked out the window into the dusk, “Loki, my boy, where are you?”

 

Martin pointed to the vial in Loki's hand, “The waters are from the wellspring of wisdom and understanding. Her death was a travesty of justice, her soul did split for that reason. Often it will split at the moment of her passing.”  
“Which must be why she did not remember me. I am the cause. I started her descent into death.”  
Martin nodded, “But her travesty will be her salvation, you see? You came searching for her and found her. She now has a way out of the darkness, back into the light,” Martin templed his hands together at his chin, “You must return with her to Alfheim where her mortal remains lie, but know this, she will cease to be as she is now when she steps through the portal. She will be lifeless as she is now where she rests in Alfheim. Of utmost importance is that she be wearing the Uruz, else she will lose the other half of her soul. Bring her to her remains and pour the water upon them.”  
“That is all I must do?” Loki gazed at the vial.  
“Indeed, the water will do the rest.”  
Loki paused, “Tell me, would it work if a curse had been placed upon the person? My friend shares my dilemma though his love wasted away from a curse placed upon her.”  
Martin stroked his chin, “It depends, why was the curse cast?”  
“It was cast out of bitterness and anger,” Loki thought of the tale Chris had told him when they'd first met.  
“Then there is a possibility that the same elements could be combined to bring his love back from limbo. What about her soul, does she have anything that would contain half her soul?”  
Loki shrugged, “I confess I know not. I will ask Eidra when I return. I wish to repay my friend for all he has done for me.”  
Martin clapped him on the back, “Do ask her. Perhaps something might still be done. There may yet be hope. You've come a long way from the young prince I saw back on Asgard.”   
Martin walked back to the cabinet, pulled out another vial and filled it, then handed it to Loki along with a small cloth, “Just in case. Wrap the vials in this, it will keep them safe. You can never be too careful.”  
Here he put his hand on Loki's shoulder, “I must warn you though. Bringing her across the barrier of worlds will afford you only one chance to restore her. You must be sure you have all the elements. Whatever holds the other half of her soul must on her person when she crosses the barrier into the other realms or she is lost.”  
“Thank you for your help, Martin,” Loki held out his hand and Martin shook it. “I hope one day I will be able to repay you as well.”  
Martin waved at him, “No need, my boy. My repayment shall be in your success. Do you need lodging for the evening? I can have Anna fix a room for you.”  
Loki shook his head, “I cannot delay here, I must return to Eidra.”   
“Good luck to you, my friend. Pay my respects to Fin if you will.”  
Loki nodded, “And if you see Eldan, will you do the same for me?”  
Martin smiled, “I will though I think you shall soon do so in person.”  
“If fate is kind. Good evening, Martin.”  
“Gods speed, Loki.”  
Loki walked out of the house into the cool evening air. It was nearly dark. He would have to find a spot in the nearby forest to use the Uruz without being seen. He patted his pack where the two vials now sat and his heart soared. He would soon be reunited with Eidra in Alfheim.

 

Sally sat on the bed stroking Eidra's back. Eidra's head still hurt from the cuff she'd received. Her right wrist felt like it had been badly sprained and she held it in her lap as her tears dripped down to land on the skirt of her gown. Before he tossed them into the bedchamber, the stranger had backed her to the wall with a growl, sneering at her as she claimed not to know him.   
“How is it you do not know the mighty Thor? Have you forgotten me?”   
She knew, then, who he was, knew his name but not his face and he had laughed at her.   
“I have finally found you and yet my brother is nowhere in sight? Is the coward hiding beneath your petticoats?”   
He had made to lift her dress and she had slapped his hand away but he'd caught her by the wrist, twisting it hard, bringing white sparkles to the edges of her vision. She thought for a moment that she would pass out from the pain. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She had lunged forward and bitten his arm hard enough to taste blood. With a roar, he had loosed his grip on her. She'd darted around the room, avoiding his grasp until she tripped upon the edge of the fireplace and he was upon her again.   
“You little whore, let us see how tractable you are after a night locked in your bedchamber!”   
He had thrown her through the doorway and soon after, Sally came running in, the door slamming behind her. Now they sat on the bed, frightened, enraged. Eidra's determination to follow Loki was stronger than ever, fueled by the presence of the crown prince of Asgard. She had seen in her visions, indeed, when she looked at Loki, his regal bearing, the air of nobility he possessed, visible even through the trappings of a peasant. Loki was the dark prince himself. All she'd been told about him by her father, her brother, simply did not fit the description of the man she now loved. Those tales seemed better to fit the man who now sat before the fireplace watching their front door in anticipation of his brother's return.  
“What do we do now? What will he do to Loki?” Sally stared at the closed bedchamber door.  
“Loki is his brother, he will do nothing to him, of that I am sure. I do not think, however, that he will let him return with me. There is much I still do not know of what happened in my past but I am sure that Thor is not here because of me.”  
The bedroom door swung open abruptly and one of the guards walked in gesturing to Eidra. “Come with me.”  
Sally gripped her arm, “Please leave her be!”  
The guard's eyes slid to Sally for a moment then back to Eidra, “Come with me, now.”  
Eidra patted Sally's arm, “I will not be gone for long, I promise you. I will be safe.”  
Sally loosened her hold slowly, glaring at the guard who escorted her from the room without so much as a glance, shutting the door behind him.

Thor was sitting in Sally's rocking chair in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped before him as he leaned forward gazing into the flames.   
“Sire, here is the woman you wished to speak with.”  
Thor nodded but didn't turn his head, waving at her rocking chair, “Sit.”  
She eased into the chair, ready to bolt should he make any move towards her. But he only smiled.  
“Eidra, it would be so much easier for you to tell me where my brother has gone. That is all I ask of you.”  
“And yet you think I lie when I say I do not know.”  
“You spend so much time defending him when he is hardly worthy of it.”  
She sat upright in her chair, “How can you say that when he is your brother?”  
Thor chuckled, a sound that sent icy fingers up her spine, “I can say such because I know him far better than you do. Either you are become as talented a liar as my brother or you have no memory of your past.”  
“How come you by that conclusion?”  
Thor turned to her, “Because if you had remembered who I was, you would have run at the sight of me.”  
She held his stare, “If by running you mean out of fear, you would be wrong. I do not fear you.”  
“Nor do you fear Loki anymore, I gather.”  
“I have no reason to,” she tilted her head, confused.   
“You once did. Do you not remember that night he came to you in a drunken stupor and took you? Deflowered you? How his anger and rage made you cower before him?”  
Eidra couldn't speak, she felt sick, “Deflowered me? He could not....without permission...,” she thought of the Uruz. He had told her how her father had given it to him but he'd never said why.  
“So you do not remember how he begot you with a bastard child? How he was responsible for your death? How he begged your father for that damnable necklace to atone for his indiscretion?”  
She sat silent, trembling. Here were the missing pieces of the puzzle, all she had not seen.  
“A child?” She remembered well that Loki had spoken of a baby when he had first come to her cottage. “I do not remember....”  
“No? You cannot recall how you birthed the bastard stillborn to be buried in the woods near Alfheim.”  
Eidra's hand flew to her mouth, tears shut her eyes.  
“All would have been well had he simply treated you as a servant,” Thor grumbled.  
“He said he would have taken my place, he would have died for me, but you stopped him.” She wrapped her arms around her, suddenly cold.  
“He is the prince regent, you were a servant. One day he will die a glorious death. He will see Valhalla. It is not for him to give his life for a commoner.”   
Thor leaned over to her, his hand on the arm of her chair, “You seek to protect him that you once needed protection from, do you see the absurdity of it all? If you will tell me where he is, I will leave you in peace.”  
Eidra glared at him, all at once indignant. The stories Thor was spouting sounded as terrible as the ones her father would spin for her.  
“If you seek him out of concern for his well being, then why do you say I am the one protecting him? It would seem to me instead of being dangerous as you say, that he is in danger from you.”  
Thor's hand tightened on the chair, “Foolish woman, I wish him to return home with me, that is the simple truth of it. You would do well to be shed of him. He does not belong here. You are but a shade a soul waiting to continue its journey. The sooner he realizes this, the better.”  
She was about to speak when the most powerful vision she'd yet had, washed over her. She could feel the cold iron at her wrists, hear the rattle of the chains, see the members of the High Court standing around her, their faces grim. So powerful was the sensation that she pulled one arm up just to feel it drop down into her lap with the weight of the chain attached to it.   
She could see the castle of King Freyr in the distance, the King himself standing behind the council, his head down, eyes at the ground, Thor and Loki standing in the middle of the High Court. Sheer terror gripped her as she realized she was seeing the last moments of her life. She felt herself struggle away from the tall faceless guard who stood before her. Then she heard him, heard Loki crying out, “ME, My life for hers, let me take her place!”, saw the fear, the desperation in his eyes as Thor's hand closed around his mouth, his anguish, his outstretched hand and then there was nothing else save pain.  
She put her hands to her stomach on impulse, gasping, but the vision dissipated leaving her mind clearer than it had ever been before.   
She looked up at Thor. “I am much more than a spirit, much more than a foolish woman, I am loved, I have been loved from the life before into the next. So much so that Loki came to find me. I tell the truth when I say I do not know where he went. He would not tell me but know this, even if I had been made privy to such information nothing would drag it from me. I do not fear you, not your wrath, nor your power, for here you do not matter. Here you are not a prince, you are an outlander and you have no divine right to come here and take anyone or anything from this island.”  
Thor was on his feet at once with a roar, lifting her from the chair by the bodice of her gown and heaving her to the floor where she cried out in agony as her right wrist hit the floor sending bolts of pain shooting up her arm.   
“You little whore! I will take Loki from here, mark my words well! You will not steal my brother from me again!”  
He dragged her to her feet, tossing her at the guard who had been standing silent nearby, “Return her to her room!”  
Sally was waiting to receive her when the guard opened the door and led her inside, closing the door behind him.  
“Are ye okay? That bloody barbarian, I heard all he said to ye,” Sally held her tight, trying to still her tremors.  
“I am fine. I have seen what I needed to see. I hope to the gods that Loki finds out Thor is here or all is lost for us.”


	19. 19

The fine sand sunk beneath Loki's boots as he trotted up the beach to the road leading into town. The light of day had waned. He gazed up at the sky, the clouds shrouding the rising moon in gauze and quickened his pace. He had to fetch a horse from Chris. He was exhausted, running on pure adrenaline, thinking of Eidra waiting for him to return and he was not about to disappoint her.   
The moon had taken over the sun's job by the time he reached Chris's cottage and burst inside, just missing the swing of a jug full of cider. He stumbled backwards over the lintel nearly tumbling into the dooryard with a yell as Angus and Chris rushed up to him.   
“Ah Loki, I'm sorry, my boy. We didn't know it was you.”  
“Gods, man, look first, strike later. Who in Odin's name did you expect to greet with such warm hospitality?” he cried. All at once, he spied Angus, lunging forward until he was inches from his face, “What are you doing here?”  
Angus put a hand to his chest, shoving him back, “I'm here ta tell you that you've a visitor in town. Earlier today a tall fair haired man wi' a small group of soldiers was going around the village looking for you.”   
Loki's legs felt as if they'd turned to water. He leaned forward onto the table before the fire.  
“Thor,” he rasped.  
“Aye, he said that was his name and I didna know at the time when I brought him to Eidra's cottage what a bastard he was.”  
Angus had no time to react as Loki grabbed the front of his tunic and roared, “You brought him to the one person I did not want him to find?!”   
“My boy, he had no idea,” Chris put his hand on Loki's arm, “It was a mistake honestly made. He came here to warn you. Give him that at least.”  
Loki opened his hands and Angus yanked his tunic free, “Oh aye, now I'm alright to parlay wi'.”  
Loki closed his eyes, endeavoring to keep his words even, “Do you realize what he is capable of? What he will do to her?”  
“I do now. I saw him give her a right knock on the head when she answered him smart.”  
Loki was at his cot, drawing off the midgardian shirt he still wore, started to yank a tunic out of his pack when he remembered the precious cargo wrapped within. He lifted the tunic gingerly, unrolling the vials into his hand and setting them on the cot.  
“Did you get what you set out to, my boy?” Chris eyed the two delicate glass tubes.  
“I did.”  
Loki tossed the jeans to the side and donned his breeches, reached in the pack, pulled out a small pouch and put one of the vials inside, tying it to the sash of his tunic. He knelt down, reached under the bed, sliding out his crossbow and his short sword.  
“Let us go,” Loki headed for the door but Angus held up his hand.  
“Now we canna go off half-cocked,”  
Loki gave him a curious look, “What?”  
“Ah god, it's a saying...you canna hurry into this. We need the element of surprise. Now I have an idea I've been thinking on, listen..

 

Chris patted Lightning on the nose. The nearer they came to the village, the more agitated the horse became, prancing about as if he wanted to bolt.  
“Lightning knows something's afoot.” Chris whispered, stroking Lightning's neck, “There now, 'tis alright.”  
Loki looked over to him, “Chris, we're nearly there. You stay hidden in the trees, be ready to mount and ride if need be. I shall take Thunder with me for Sally. Keep the other vial safe. Remember what I told you.”  
Chris waved at him, “We will talk of it later.”  
Loki rubbed Thunder's flank, “Chris, if I am successful, there will be no later.”  
“I know boy, let me have my illusion,” Chris put a hand above his heart, “Go on with you.”  
Loki touched Chris's shoulder, “We will meet again if fate be kind. Thank you for everything.”  
“Ah it's I should be thanking you.”  
Angus rolled his eyes, “Come on, kiss and have it over wi',”  
Chris gave Loki a gentle shove, “He's right boy, hurry.”  
With a final glance at the surrounding forest, Loki and Angus disappeared into the gathering darkness.

 

Loki stroked Thunder's neck as he led him to the barn behind Eidra's cottage, wrapping the reins around the paddock fencing. There was a dim glow in Eidra's bedchamber window. Holding a finger to his lips, he motioned for Angus to follow him. Edging as close as he could to the window, Loki peered inside to see Sally sitting on the bed beside Eidra whispering into her ear. Eidra looked as if she had been crying and he gripped the stock of his crossbow tightly.  
He motioned for Angus to follow him and they made their way around the cottage hidden in the gloom of the night. They stayed well back in a small copse of trees from where they could see the front door. Two royal guards stood sentinel on either side of the stone steps.  
Loki fitted a bolt into the chamber of the crossbow, turning to Angus. “Are you ready?”  
“Aye,” Angus yanked the dagger Chris had given him from its scabbard, “This should be fun.”  
Loki took aim at the nearest guard, illuminated by the firelight streaming out of the front window. He altered his aim in a moment of doubt. What if one of them were Silas? It was through no fault of their own the Crown Prince was insane. He took a deep breath and let fly.  
The guard nearest them bellowed in pain, grabbing his leg as his comrade rushed to him, sword drawn staring into the darkness.  
“Oy!” Angus bellowed as he reached the road, “I've plenty more where that came from, lassies but you'll have ta catch me first!” The guard gave a shout as the front door swung open, spilling out Thor and the other two guards into the dooryard.  
.  
Sally and Eidra jumped when they heard the guards yell.  
“What's happening?” Sally whispered loudly as they both stood looking at the bedroom door. The knock on the window behind them caused them to shriek. They whirled about to see Loki waving them towards him. Eidra rushed to the window and grabbed his hands, “Oh Loki, gods! I am so frightened....”  
“Shhh,” He put a finger to her lips, “He may be an oaf but he will know a ruse when he sees one. Come on.”  
“Take Sally first. I do not want her left behind.”  
Loki could hear the guards shouting at Angus, the sound of armor, swords being drawn. “Come, there is no time.”   
Sally swung one leg over the windowsill, pulling her other leg up.   
“Lean over I will let you down,” As Loki eased Sally to the ground, he feared time was running out for them. His fears were confirmed as the bedroom door flew open behind Eidra.   
“Hurry!” Loki cried as Eidra lunged for the open window. He heard Thor bellow, “NOOO!!” as he wrapped his arms around Eidra's waist, pulling with all his might. They tumbled backwards to the ground as Thor's face, wild with rage, appeared in the bedchamber window.   
“Loki, NO!” He roared as they regained their feet and began to run towards the barn.  
Loki turned to Sally, yelling, “Take Thunder!” as they reached the paddock, “Chris is at the edge of town waiting for you!” He glanced behind him to see Thor struggling through the narrow window.  
“But what about the two of ye?” She took Eidra's hand.  
“We will be safe,” Loki pulled at Eidra's arm.  
“Oh Eidra, I can't say goodbye!” Sally let out a sob that was mirrored by Eidra herself.  
Loki looked towards the house, Thor was nearly through the window and he could see the silhouettes of two guards running around the side of the cottage.  
“Eidra, hurry. There is no time!”   
“Oh go, pet! The gods protect ye!” Sally cried as she mounted Thunder who reared, eager to run. Loki slapped his flank, spurring the horse forward. Thor was charging down on them hard, the thud of his boots shaking the ground. Loki lifted the Uruz from his chest, turning it in his trembling fingers and shouted, “Alfheim, The High Ground!”   
The portal shimmered to life before them as he removed the Uruz, dropping it around her neck.   
“Loki, you must go first!” she cried.   
He stared at the snow covered forest of Alfheim rimmed by the dark woods beyond, turned to see Thor feet away and stepped through, grabbing Eidra's arm, yanking her forward with him. As Thor reached out to snatch at her gown the portal snapped shut, Thor's hand passing through thin air and he dropped to his knees, roaring to the sky, “LOKI!”

 

Loki and Eidra tumbled to a heap in the snow. He was immediately on his feet at her side but Martin's prediction had been correct. She lay there lifeless, the Uruz around her neck shimmering with a faint glow. He lifted her in his arms, looking around in the moonlight at his surroundings. He could see the snow topped pillars of the High Ground in front of him. He turned to his right trudging between the trees up the path he had trod following her bier that day so many years ago.

When he finally reached the scaffold, he was horrified to see it had been all but reclaimed by the forest. Dried vines snaked upward, ensnaring the wooden poles. A light blanket of snow covered all in a cleansing cover of white. He knew he had little time, Thor would know where he went. He stared up at the platform. Ragged pieces of cloth fluttered in the wind, throwing flurries over the edge to the ground below. What would be left of her?   
He laid Eidra's body down in the snow and started up the side of the scaffold. It creaked beneath his weight, swaying precariously though it held firm as he rose higher. When he reached the top, he let out a cry of horror. Nothing but snow dusted bones lay on the tattered maroon velvet coverlet, the dress in which she'd been laid to rest now in shreds, wrapping itself around her remains as if claiming them for all eternity.   
He fumbled at his waist for the vial. With one last look at her body lying below him in the snow, he let the water drop onto the blank bleached skull. The bones dissolved into a glow of brilliant white that grew brighter and brighter still until even his hand before his face could not diminish its brilliance. It was brightest light he'd ever seen and it seemed to infuse the surrounding forest, making it bright as day, the air shimmering with a rainbow of color.   
He leaped down from the platform, turning to see Eidra's body lying on the ground, the Uruz at the arch of her collarbone, glowing brighter with each passing moment as if in answer to the light surrounding them until it seemed to swallow all, the starlight, the moonlight, the darkness. He closed his eyes and all at once the light was gone.   
When he opened them again, there was only darkness save for the soft shimmer of the Uruz against her skin and the pale moonlight casting long shadows across the snow. He knelt down beside her, despair sharper than a knife through his heart. She lie pale and still. It hadn't worked. He looked down at her, giving a strangled cry as he put a trembling hand to her face, “My dearest heart.....”   
As his fingers touched her cheek, her eyes flew open. She drew in choking gulps of air, flailing her arms about in the snow. Loki had fallen backwards in surprise. Now he scrambled to her side, lifting her to sit upright as she struggled for breath. He kept his arm around her shoulders, supporting her, stroking her face as she sat, gasping, looking about her.   
“Eidra, you are safe now.”  
All at once her hands flew to her stomach, as if searching for something until her gaze focused on him.  
“Loki!” She cried, reaching up to touch his face, drawing him in for half a dozen kisses, “I remembered you taking my hand and pulling me through the portal but the first thing I recalled upon waking here was you holding me after....” She put her hands to her mouth and stifled a cry, “Oh gods! Oh gods, I was so frightened!”   
He pulled her to him, holding her tightly, kissing the top of her head, “It is all over now. We are together, you are here with me.”   
Suddenly she tore away from him.  
“Sally?!” she gasped, “Where is she?”  
Loki took her hands within his, “Fear not. I saw her ride off on Thunder, well ahead of my brother and his guards.”   
“Dear gods, at the very least, she is safe. I shall miss her terribly”  
All at once, he took her face in his hands, “Now I must know, tell me who I am. Do you remember?”   
She smiled at him, as she encircled her arms about his neck, “I remember everything my love. My dark prince.”   
He felt as if he could fly. He lifted her up in his arms laughing but at once she drew a deep breath. He let her down, catching her as she stumbled forward.  
“Oh Loki, we must go to Rialo and find Ren!”  
Loki tilted his head as she took his hand, “I feared Thor's wrath so greatly that with the help of Helgi, Silas and Clotho, we devised a plan to secret Cait away to Ren.”   
Loki stepped back from her, his mouth open in stunned silence as she continued.  
“If Thor had found Cait alive, I am certain he would have done away with her. Clotho gave us an elixir to make her sleep as if dead,” Eidra fell to her knees, shivering in the snow, “Forgive me, oh gods, please. I never meant to cause you such pain!”  
He squatted before her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes, luminous in the dim glow of the Uruz , “I, too, feared Thor's will as much as you did. There is nothing to forgive if our daughter lives still,” he pulled her up to stand, “Now we must hurry, Thor knows where we have gone and he will be on our trail soon.”   
He started to guide her away back towards the High Ground, his arm around her shoulders. She would wince with every step, the cold snow tumbling over the tops of her slippers. “We must get you a change of clothes and someplace warm to stay for the night.”  
“I cannot wait to see her again, Loki. To hold her in my arms. I had so little time with her.”  
Loki glanced over at her, “We will make for Rialo as soon as we can but I feel you must know, some considerable time has passed.”  
Eidra stopped walking, “How much time?”  
“Nearly six seasons.”   
Eidra doubled over, clutching her chest, “Six....my sweet baby.”  
“Had I known it was possible to save you, I would have been there the next day, I swear it. Come, we must keep on. You will perish from the cold.”  
She let him pull her forward until they were both walking. “I have missed everything, her first word, first step, first smile.”   
“Things will be different from this night forward, we shall miss nothing more.”  
Eidra squeezed his hand, “Where are we going?”  
“We must go to your father's house.”  
Eidra stopped walking again, “No. We cannot go there. He wanted you dead. He would have had me give you up to the High Court.”  
“As would I had I been a father in his place but there is no choice. Your father's house is close by. Rialo is much too far to travel on foot and you need warmer clothes. Given the choice between your father and Thor, I would settle for your father.” Loki kept guiding her on.  
Eidra could see far in the distance, the outline of her father's house, “So you say but given the choice between you and your brother, I believe my father would have picked Thor.”


	20. 20

The young houseboy jumped at the knock on the door, sitting up from his pallet by the fire and rubbing his eyes. At first he thought he'd dreamed it until it came again and he leaped from the pallet to open the door a crack. Upon the doorstep stood a tall man with long black hair and a young brunette woman, both strangers.   
“May I help you?”   
“Yes we must speak to the master of this house,” Loki glanced back to Eidra who stood in the shadows.  
“My master is asleep as is the rest of the household. Might I ask who is calling so that I might tell him?”  
“Inform him Lord Loki is here upon urgent matters.”  
The boy's eyes widened as he stumbled back into the house bowing twice, “Yes Sire, please come in and wait by the fire!”   
“I wonder what happened to our old houseboy, John.” Eidra mused as she looked about the house, noting a change here and there.  
Loki steered her to a chair by the fire, taking a laprobe from the arm and throwing it about her shoulders.  
They heard footsteps to their right and looked up to see the houseboy emerge from the dark hallway holding a candle, followed closely by Eldan who stopped dead in his tracks, swaying when he saw them. Loki reached out a hand to steady him but he shied away, staring at Loki as if he were a spirit. Eldan had aged since Loki had seen him last, his hair much whiter, most of the gray gone now, his face lined, youth leeched out of it. Eidra rose from the chair, smiling.  
“What sorcery is this?” He reached out a hand to touch Eidra's face, pulling up short.  
“There is no sorcery at work, Father.....no black magic. Your eyes do not deceive you. I am here.”  
“It cannot be,” Eldan shook his head, stepped back but Eidra reached out and took his hands, “Do you not trust your own senses? Loki restored me from the half life I had been trapped within.”  
They heard more footsteps from the hallway and Suram emerged wrapping a long robe around herself.  
“Eldan who is here at this hour?”   
When she saw Eidra, she screamed, clutching the robe to her face.  
Eidra ran to her, Suram backpedaling as she came closer, “Please, do not be afraid.”   
But Suram had squeezed her eyes shut tight, “You are dead! You lie at the High ground!”  
Eidra reached out and touched her arm. “No! Feel me, I am flesh and blood.”  
Suram took a sharp breath in, yanking free of Eidra's grasp.  
“How, how did this happen?” Eldan turned to Loki. “How did you restore her?”  
“It bears much explanation,” Loki moved to Eidra who had wrapped her arms around herself, trembling, “It has been a long journey.”

They sat by the fireplace and between the two of them, they explained to a disbelieving Eldan the events that had led them there to this house. Eldan the ability to speak temporarily lost, sat listening, his mouth agape while Suram held his hand, stroking it.  
“We stopped here on our way to Rialo because we left Tir Na Nog in such haste, Eidra had no time to don proper clothing. It is much too cold for her to travel in her dressing gown so we only beg the favor of a bed for a few hours rest, a proper dress, boots and a heavy cloak for Eidra. I will see to it you are paid from the royal coffers.”  
Eidra looked down at her mud stained nightgown, “And a bath if it would not be too much trouble.”  
Eldan blinked rapidly, stared about the room as if waking from a dream. He then stood from his chair and walked up to Eidra where she sat, putting his hand to her face. “My dearest flower. My house is your house, it has always been,” he looked at Loki, “Thank you for bringing her here.”  
“And thank you for your hospitality.” Loki nodded in return.  
Eldan's eyes narrowed, then he lifted Eidra up from her chair and embraced her kissing the top of her head.  
“My little girl. It matters not how you were returned to us. That the gods saw fit to allow this miracle is enough for me. For many seasons, I have asked myself what more I could have done to save you, prayed to turn back time and now my prayers have been answered. The houseboy will heat water for you and you may bathe in your old chambers. Go with him, my dear.”  
Loki made to follow Eidra and the houseboy but Eldan held up his hand. When Eidra glanced back to be sure Loki was following her he gave her a reassuring smile.  
“I believe your father wishes to speak to me. I will attend you soon.”  
She hesitated as the houseboy took her gently by the elbow, guiding her out of the room. When she was out of sight, Eldan turned to Loki.   
“You have delivered her safe to me,” his tone was clipped, curt, “I thank you for all you have done for her. Perhaps you should slip away now while she is otherwise occupied.”  
Loki laughed aloud, “Have you heard nothing of what we have said this night? You still mistake me as her savior only. I am also her lover, and soon I will petition the Allfather to let her become my wife. I shall never leave her side again.”  
Eldan drew his hand through his white hair, “Do you not think she would be in greater danger were you to stay by her side?”  
“No one shall ever harm her again so long as I live,” Loki drew himself up, “I swear this to you.”  
“And what of Thor? Did you not say he was after you? What if he finds you here?” Eldan stole a glance at the windows as if he expected Thor to rush through the door on cue.  
“If you wish, we shall leave your house this night to save your household further grief but know that Thor only wishes to bring me home.”  
Eldan crossed his arms, “You are aware I do not trust you, of course.”  
“I did not ask for your trust. I do not live to please you. Now, if your offer of hospitality still stands, I should like to attend Eidra. It has been a long night and we would retire soon. Only say the word and we will be on our way.”  
Suram approached, taking Eldan by the hand, “By all means, you may be excused. Our house is yours.”  
Loki bowed and with a final glance at Eldan, walked down the hall the way Eidra and the houseboy had gone.   
Eldan turned to Suram, “What in the name of Freyr...?”  
“Let him attend Eidra. He need not be privy to our conversation. Why do you not send word to King Freyr that Loki is here? He will summon Thor who shall come retrieve the dark prince. In that manner may you loose her from him.”  
Eldan stared into the fire, “I am greatly vexed . Loki brought her back from the dead. He saved her but were it not for him, she need never have suffered so in the first place. I must think on this,” he squeezed her fingers and let them drop, “Go back to bed, I shall be in soon.”  
She nodded, drifting back down the hallway, leaving Eldan to his thoughts.

 

Eidra eased herself into the large copper tub, hissing as the hot water traveled up her body until it covered her breasts.   
“Loki, are you sure you would not join me?”  
Loki had drawn his tunic off and was standing before a stand where sat a basin of steaming water below an ornate mirror.   
“Enjoy your bath. I will make do with a quick washing.”   
He smiled as he watched her reflection in the mirror groping for the wash cloth floating in the tub, “Very well. I shant be long.”  
He felt uneasy. Eldan had clearly wanted him to leave and in truth he would never have brought her here had it not been winter in the truest sense of the word. She would have succumbed to the cold long before they reached Rialo even with his cloak to shield her.  
Loki splashed water on his face, weighing the consequences of revealing what Eldan had said to him then he looked at her reflection again, her beatific smile as her eyes slid to gaze lovingly at his back and it emboldened him.  
“I do not trust your father. He suggested I leave here without you.”  
Eidra leaned over the edge of the tub, “Do you wish to leave then? I will finish my bath and dress, then we can be on our way. I am eager to reach Rialo.”  
Loki shook his head, “No, we will rest for the remainder of the evening then start out in the morning.” He walked to the tub, kneeling on the hardwood floor beside it, trailing his hand in the warm water as she met and laced her fingers with his, “And we will make a new life together. Nothing will part us ever again.”

 

It was Eidra's bladder that woke her up. She had trotted to the chamber pot, wincing at the ice cold floors, lifted the night gown she'd been given to wear and squatted. As she finished relieving herself, she looked to the bottom of the door where a faint line of light caught her eye as it drifted past the threshold. She cracked open the door and slipped into the hallway where she spied the light from a candle in the common room. Expecting her father had stayed up late, she was about to return to the bedroom when she heard voices dropped to a whisper. She inched closer to listen. As she approached, she heard her father first, then her step-mother.  
“I sent Falon to the castle with a letter. King Freyr will send a dispatch to Asgard. All we must do is convince them to stay a day before moving on.”  
Suram's voice sounded confident, “I am sure if you ask them in the interest of hospitality, they will reconsider. You must at least keep up the pretense and let the dark prince believe you are penitent. Make amends with him.”  
“Suram, you ask the impossible. He killed my daughter as surely as if he held the sword in his hand. When last I heard he was imprisoned in Asgard, what if he has escaped? He did not say he was released, only that he found Eidra on Tir Na Nog. What if even now Thor rides to dispatch Loki? If Eidra is found with him, might they take her too?”  
Eidra covered her mouth with her hands to prevent herself from shouting at each horrible word her father spoke. So incensed, so intent was she on listening further that it was nearly too late when she noticed the light from the candle growing brighter. She ducked back into the bedchamber, watching through the crack as Suram drifted past the door on her way to her bedchamber.  
She waited until she heard Suram close her door and slipped back out into the hallway, down to the common room where she could just make out her father's form standing before the low coals of the fire in the hearth.  
“Father.”   
Even though she'd spoken quietly, her voice seemed loud in the room. “I recall one moment an age ago, not long before I was sent to Asgard when you told me what an honor it was to be a tribute to the Crown Prince of Asgard, claiming you only desired my happiness. Why then have you done such a thing to ruin the happiness I possess now?”  
Eldan kept his eyes on the coals as if not at all surprised by her presence, “I believe you are blinded by love. The man is evil.”  
Eidra's anger was growing, “I have seen him at his worst. Now am blessed with his best. He is not the man he was so many years ago. So if I truly be blinded by love, then I only wish him to lead me through the darkness.”  
“Foolish girl, you know so little of the world still. I am simply trying to save you from making the same mistakes again for as surely as we stand here, if Loki brings you back to Asgard, they will separate you one from another and banish you back to Alfheim if luck be with you,” He glanced up at her then as she began to back away from him.  
“We are leaving. If you will not give us what we need to travel then so be it. We will leave as we came here, with nothing.”  
She turned and trotted back to her chambers before her father could protest. Loki was curled up on his side but as soon as her hand touched his back, he was sitting up in the bed.   
“We must get up,” she pulled at his arm as he rubbed his eyes, “Father has sent a courier to Freyr to tell him you are here.”  
Loki had his breeches in hand before her sentence was finished and was pulling them on.  
“You cannot travel dressed so lightly,” he stood, picking up his tunic, “I must implore your father to see reason.”  
Eidra searched for her slippers beneath the bed, “He is set so against you.”  
Loki looked at her, “What would you have me do? You will die of exposure out there in the cold.”  
“Trust me, he shall yield, if not in heart then in logic. Dress yourself and follow me.”

 

Eldan was still standing before the fire when Loki and Eidra walked into the common room and bowed to him. “Father, we bid you goodbye.”  
Eldan whirled around, “You cannot go! It is the middle of the night. You will freeze to death!”  
“Nevertheless, we must go. You have left us little choice. I will not bend to your wishes nor will I cast out the man I love,” she was across the room, Loki at her heels, her fingertips at the handle of the outer door when Eldan called to her, “Wait, please.”  
She stopped but didn't turn around, “What would you have us do?”  
She could hear the frustration in her father's voice and for a second, was sorry for causing him such heartache, then she felt Loki's hand at the small of her back and it gave her the resolve to turn the handle of the door.   
“Do not leave like this!” Eldan cried, striding to a small door at one side of the fireplace, pounding on it with his fist “Jemma! Come at once!”   
The housemaid emerged bleary eyed from the small room, hiking her shawl about her shoulders.   
“I require a dress and a pair of warm boots for my daughter. Go to Suram and tell her that I order it.”  
Eidra turned around to see Eldan grabbing a cloak from one of the pegs by the door handing it to Loki. “I cannot hold you here. I can only ask you to stay.”  
He took the cloak, laying it over his arm, “We require a horse as well. I will send you compensation.”  
Eldan heard Jemma running down the hall and the rustle of fabric as Eidra looked to Loki, “I shall go and change, I will be but a moment.”  
As he watched her go, Eldan spoke again, “And when you have reached your destination, what then? I have heard of your downfall and your imprisonment. When they find you again and return you to that prison, what of Eidra?”  
Loki chuckled, “I was released from the prisons below Asgard by none other than Odin himself. I intend to make a home with Eidra far from the city.”  
Eldan stared hard at Loki, “Even were you telling the truth, what shall you do when you reach Rialo? You are a prince. Would you give up your title for a halfling servant girl? You know nothing of hard work. How shall you feed and clothe Eidra, provide shelter?”  
Loki's blood ran hot enough to burn at every world Eldan uttered. How dare he call his own flesh a halfling servant girl. Hard work? He recalled the months he'd spent at chores each day, cutting wood, milking, hunting, cleaning, helping Chris tend garden, tend the animals. How dare he... before Loki could answer him, Eidra was sailing into the common room and so he swallowed his scathing reply. She had donned a light gray dress with a white laced bodice, a pair of soft leather boots on her feet   
“I am ready.”   
Loki fastened the light gray claok at her neck. Suram, who had followed behind her, trotted up to Eldan, “Let them go. She will see her mistake soon enough.”  
Eidra, pulled from Loki's grasp, pivoted on her heels and marched up to Suram until they were nearly nose to nose.  
“I have seen more wonders my life than you will in a dozen lifetimes and I know what I do now is no mistake, Loki crossed worlds to find me, would my father have done so for you?”  
Eldan turned crimson. When Suram pulled at his arm he shrugged her off and walked to the door, flinging it open.   
“The stable boy will give you a horse. If this is the destiny you choose, be prepared to live with the consequences.”  
Eidra backed to Loki who put a hand protectively about her shoulders, “So be it..”  
They strode out into the night as the door shut behind them. Only then did she drop her head into her hands, “I thought, at the very least, mine own father would be sympathetic to our plight.”  
Loki pulled her to him and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes. “Enough tears. We are together. In time perhaps he will see the error of his own decision. Now let us ride to Rialo.”  
She put her head against his chest and nodded, “We have much to do.”


	21. 21

They arrived in Rialo later that same day, halting before Ren's little cottage in the middle of town as the sun approached its zenith in the sky. Loki dismounted first as Eidra saw the cottage door open and Ren appear from the darkness inside. Eidra smiled, looking to the ground as Loki helped her from the horse. When she glanced back up at the door, however, Ren was nowhere to be found. Eidra stepped around Loki and saw Ren then, lying prostrate across the doorstep.   
“Oh Ren!” She cried and began to run.

They had revived Ren, bringing her to sit in a chair by the fireplace. Now Eidra knelt on the cottage floor beside her, stroking her hand while she caressed Eidra's cheek.   
“'Tis a miracle, a true miracle.”  
“Loki was my savior. Were it not for him, I would be forever lost,” Eidra looked up at him, “It was him brought me back. Now I have so much catching up to do. I cannot wait to see Cait. Where is she?”  
Tears stood in Ren's eyes and for one horrifying moment, Eidra was sure the baby had indeed perished.   
“A season after Cait came to live with me, Helgi came and asked to raise the child in the palace. She said that you,” here she nodded towards Loki, “were in great danger. Your heart had turned black. She thought perhaps the baby would bring light back into your life and you would be saved,” she swallowed convulsively, “...by love..”  
Loki had locked his fingers behind his neck, closed his eyes.  
“I sensed something different about the little girl. I took her to my heart for a time but the pain of Eidra's loss was too much to bear. I was far gone by then. My rage poisoned my mind and I turned away from her. Helgi never told me who she was.”  
“I kenned her reason for doing what she did though it broke my heart,” Ren wiped her eyes and Eidra was acutely aware of the wrinkles about her face, how much she had aged since Eidra had seen her last, the gray streaks in her auburn hair, the brown spots on her hands, the slight hunch as she sat there in the chair.   
“When she took the baby, she promised to visit with her every week but when you have watched an infant day and night for the first season of their life, well....I loved her like my own. Helgi said she would call her Brenna. She feared that Thor might....forgive me, Lord Thor might surmise who she was.  
Loki laughed aloud at this, “My brother was never the clever one.”  
“Brenna,” Eidra murmured, “Oh it all makes sense now.”  
Ren cast her a curious look, “What makes sense?”  
“In Tir Na Nog, I had a cow which I felt compelled to name Brenna...oh dear, I hope she is alright.”  
Loki stroked her hair, “Sally will care for them.”  
The mention of Sally's name made Eidra's chest hurt, “Loki, I wish we could go back for her, for Chris.”  
He nodded, “Perhaps when we are settled, I shall return to see what there is to be done.”  
“Who is Sally?” Ren asked.  
“There is so much to tell you. I promise we will have plenty of time to do so but we must ask your help. We need a place to stay.”  
Ren waved her hands about the cottage, “My home is yours. I have an extra room. It was Cait's when she was here.”  
Loki bowed to Ren, “We are in your debt. I must also beg of you another favor. Will you write a letter to Helgi and procure a courier?” He reached in the on the floor beside him and produced a worn leather pouch which he opened, drawing three coins from it and handing them to Ren.   
“For the courier. Do not tell Helgi why she must come, only that it is urgent so if the letter is intercepted no one will be the wiser. Entreat her to bring Cait,” he pursed his lips, “..Brenna..I also require parchment and pen. I have a letter of my own to write.”

Ren prepared the evening meal for them. Eidra had insisted on helping, recounting, as they worked about the kitchen, what had happened to her when she had been gone. After they had finished eating, Ren set up the spare room which contained a small bed, a writing desk and a brazier for warmth. When they thanked her profusely for her hospitality, she had taken Loki's hands in hers and kissed them, “It is I who must thank you for Eidra. Welcome home.”

Eidra lay in the bed, her arm beneath her pillow. Loki sat at the writing desk, pen in hand. The soft scratch of the quill on the paper had begun to lull her to sleep.  
“Loki, come to bed. It is cold and the hour grows late,” she held her hand out to him, “You wand to be fresh when you meet...Brenna. Oh I hope I shall remember not to call her Cait.”   
Loki didn't answer her, kept writing.  
“Loki?”  
He raised his head but did not look at her, “Not much longer, this letter is of great import. It must be carefully worded.”   
After a few more minutes, he put the quill in the inkwell and pressed a sheet of blotting paper to the surface of the letter to absorb the excess ink. When he sat back in the chair, Eidra rose up on one elbow.  
“Are you finished?”  
He gave a nod and began to fold the letter.  
“Might I read it?”  
His hands stopped moving and he looked back at her, though the glow of the candle behind him cast his expression in shadow.   
“It concerns the both of us so I suppose you may.”  
He rose from the chair, walked to the bed and sat down, handing her the letter which she took and lay back on the pillow to read. It only took a moment for her reaction. She put a hand to her chest and sat upright.  
“Loki, you cannot be serious.”  
He leaned over her, his hand on the other side of her legs, “I am.”  
She put the letter down to look at him, “You would renounce your title, give up all hope of ever ascending the throne? But why?”  
“Because Thor would have no reason to seek me out. Neither I nor my children will pose a threat to his succession The throne will continue in his line.”  
She stroked his cheek, “My love, why would you do this?”  
“Freedom. A life where I may lay beside you each night, wake to your smile each morn.” He tapped the letter, “In any case, it is already done. I will have the letter sent to the palace.”  
“And what if Thor does not accept it.”  
Loki drew his tunic over his head, “It is not his place to accept it.”  
She set the letter on the floor beside the bed and reached up, “You've had your hair in that braid for three days, here let me undo it.”  
He shivered as she worked at the leather thong and drew her fingers through the braid to open it up, “Look at the waves it has left.”  
He pulled his hair forward over his chest and shook his head, “Like yours.”  
She inched farther over on the bed and tugged on the coverlet, “Get into bed.”  
He pulled off his boots, stood to undo his breeches, drawing them off and laying them over the end of the bed. She turned the covers back and he slid beneath them to nestle up against her.  
“This is the beginning of our new life together,” he murmured in her ear, gathering her to him, “We shall build a cottage of our own,” he kissed the bare skin of her shoulder, “We shall work the land, have cows, chickens,” he drew a line down her collarbone with his tongue and she shuddered, “You will knit and sew, I will hunt.”   
She felt him growing hard against her thigh.   
“And we shall make babies.”   
He slid further down to tongue one hardened nipple and she gripped the back of his head with a long gasp as his hand found the cleft between her legs. Waves of pure pleasure rushed over her skin as he continued his ministrations. Overcome with lust, she pulled him in for a kiss, parting her legs beneath his touch.   
“Swell my belly again, my love.” She whispered in his ear, the words serving to move him as he rose above her, past all control when he slid into her with a groan and wrapped his arms around her, his thrusts matching in intensity the words he growled into her ear,  
“I shall..swell your belly...again and again....there is no one else....save you.......no other..I shall make...you...my wife.”   
His movements were erratic, primal and she let him have free reign over her, bending her legs with his hands to tilt her hips upward. She rocked against him, feeling the tide rising within her as she twisted the sheets in her hands, straining to meet and match his rhythm, knowing his passion would overtake him swiftly tonight. When he leaned hard into her and cried out his release moments later as he spilled into her, she matched him, her legs wrapped around his waist, hands at his shoulders.  
They stayed locked in their embrace for quite some time, she stroking his hair, his face, kissing him until he nipped at her bottom lip and she giggled that it felt numb. At last they lay beside one another listening to the silence of the evening.  
“Are you worried about meeting Brenna, Loki....?” She could hear herself say it but the words almost didn't make sense. She jumped when he answered her, so close had she been on the edge of slumber.  
“Yes, what will she think of us? Will she be afraid of me? Will she like us?”   
Eidra turned to drape her arm over Loki's stomach, “We will have to take our time. She does not know us...”   
The words pained her and she curled into his chest for comfort, “Loki, why could it not have been different?”  
He slid down to hold her, burying his nose in her hair, kissing her forehead, “Perhaps fate had to test our love, to see if we were strong enough.”  
“And did we pass muster?” She murmured.  
“I believe we did.”

 

Helgi jumped when the young boy cleared the bottom two steps of the spiral staircase and ran up to her.   
“Milady, I look for Mistress Helgi. I have a letter for her.”  
“You have found her, boy, though you like to have scared her out of a season's growth.”  
“Forgive me Mistress,” he bowed and held out the letter to her as she looked him over. He couldn't have been past ten seasons, tall, red-headed with freckles and pale blue eyes and for a moment, she was reminded achingly of a young Silas.  
“Bother,” she wiped her hands on her apron, patting Brenna on the head when she passed her. Brenna was kneeling on the bench seat of the table kneading bread dough for another batch of rolls and she grinned at Helgi.   
Helgi sighed as she took the letter from the boy who stood there watching Brenna. Everyone who came in contact with Brenna was enchanted with her. Even at seven seasons one could see the beauty she would eventually become with her dark hair and her sparkling dark blue eyes.  
“Boy, mind your manners,” Helgi chided as she began to read.  
The boy trained his gaze on the floor though he smiled at Brenna again a moment later. Brenna returned it briefly until Helgi refolded the letter and turned to her.   
“We will finish this batch and then we must ready to leave. I shall talk to Artra and Volsa, they will have to take over for me.”  
“Why, Helgi?”  
Helgi reached over to a tray of warm buns, grabbed two and handed them to the young courier.  
“Tell Ren we shall come.”  
“We are going to see Ren?” Brenna clapped her hands, “I will bring her the bread cloth I knit for her.”  
Helgi nodded as the courier ran up the stairs. Ren had written that an urgent matter had come to light, asking her to visit with Brenna. Her first thought was that Ren was gravely ill but surely if she were sick, she would have said so. It would do no good to upset Brenna by voicing her cares.  
“Yes Ren needs a little help I guess, Helgi repliedswallowing her concern, “Now finish the kneading and I will cut the rolls, we have much to do.”

 

That next morning after Helgi had packed the saddlebags and fastened them to one of the worker's horses, she stood watching Brenna say goodbye to Volsa and Artra.  
“Now you mind Helgi while you are gone. Do not make her need to speak with you more than once, preferrably not at all,” Volsa took her chin in hand but gently.  
“Yes, Ma'am.”  
Artra kissed the top of her head, “You do have your mother's eyes. Tell Helgi to hurry back, you know how her visits get.”  
Brenna giggled and nodded. “I will, Artra.”  
Artra handed her a cloth wrapped parcel and kissed her again, “Some of my raisin buns, the ones you like. Safe travels to you.”  
Helgi had mounted the horse and Artra handed Brenna up to her.   
“We shall be back soon,” she called as the horse set out on a trot.

 

Brenna would throw off her hood every once in a while to better see the surrounding countryside they were passing as the horse ambled along and Helgi would replace it.   
“Keep your head covered, poppet, you will catch your death of cold. It is still winter.”   
Brenna sighed loudly. She was a precocious child, bright for her age but nevertheless only seven seasons and she bored very easily.   
“Might I have my needles, Helgi?”  
“No you cannot knit while we are riding. The horse might bolt and you could fall on them or accidentally prick yourself.”  
She leaned back against Helgi, reaching up to pat her face,“My mama knitted, right?”  
“Yes child, I taught her to just as I taught you.”  
Brenna reached up her other hand so that she was patting both cheeks. “Tell me about my mama again.”   
Helgi was quiet. Talking about Eidra never failed to upset her even after so much time had passed. Brenna twisted around to look at Helgi when she remained silent.  
“Do not be sad, Mama Helgi. We can talk about something else. Would you sing to me?”   
Helgi smiled and began to sing a happy tune, one of Brenna's favorites. Brenna would ask for another and they would sing together. They passed the time thus until they entered the village of Rialo when the sun was high in the sky. 

Helgi brought the horse to a halt before Ren's cottage, dismounting with a groan. She was so sore these days. Brenna slid her arms around Helgi's neck as she lifted her from the horse.   
“Poppet, you can let go now. Let me set you down.”  
Brenna released Helgi, ran to Ren's door and knocked, shouting “Ren, we are here!”   
The door flew open and Ren threw her arms wide, “My little lamb!”  
Brenna rushed Ren, butting into her, endeavoring to get her arms around Ren's waist. Helgi hugged Ren over Brenna's head, “Is everything alright? You said little in the letter. Are you well?”  
Ren smiled but Helgi could see she was nervous, “Come inside and have a sit. I have water on for tea.”

 

Helgi sat by the fireplace in a rocking chair, Brenna playing at her feet with a box of different colored stones she'd collected over time.   
“Look, Helgi, a cat.” she had arranged the stones in the shape of a cat's face complete with whiskers.   
“Very nice Bren.”   
Brenna smiled and started to rearrange them again.  
“You sounded quite distressed in your letter.”  
Ren's dark brown eyes searched the cottage as if looking for an errant explanation hiding under the furniture or written on the walls.   
“Something has come to light. Maybe it would be easier just to show you.”  
Ren rose from her own chair, walked to the spare bedroom and opened the door. When Loki emerged from the shadows, Helgi was immediately on the defensive, her greeting polite but cool as she rose and curtsied. “Milord, I was not aware you had returned from your pilgrimage.”  
He tilted his head, “I was not aware it was common knowledge that I had left.”  
“Word spreads quickly about the palace, Milord.”  
He glanced at Brenna who had ceased her play to stare at him and he wondered if she remembered him. “Indeed, was the reason for my pilgrimage made public as well?”  
“No, Milord.” She felt Brenna shove her head beneath her hand that she had outstretched beside her and she stroked her hair.  
“Perhaps it would be easier to show you first,” he looked behind him and gestured towards the bedroom door. Helgi's scream as she dropped back to the chair brought Brenna to her feet to crawl into Helgi's lap where she began to cry. What had emerged from the bedroom could be nothing but a spirit.  
“Helgi, please do not be frightened.” Eidra flew to her but Helgi had screwed her eyes shut tight.   
“'Tis an illusion! Black magic! Loki, banish this vision! I beg you!” Helgi cried clutching Brenna tightly to her bosom.  
“Oh open your eyes, Helgi, please,” Eidra took one trembling hand to press it against her lips, “Can you not feel me? I am real,” She looked down to see Brenna peering at her from under Helgi's arm.  
Helgi slowly opened first one eye then the other.  
“Impossible. You cannot be real. I saw you laid on the scaffold in Alfheim, lifeless. Milord, pity a poor old woman. I cannot bear this.”.”   
“I swear to you Helgi, I am no spirit, I am flesh and blood!” Eidra took Helgi's hands, holding them to her face.  
She glanced from Eidra to Loki then back again to see Eidra's smiling face, eyes shining with tears and she let out a choked sob.  
“How, gods my sweet child, how?”  
“Loki found and restored me. I have so much to tell you,” Eidra looked at Brenna, “Is it truly her?”  
Helgi nodded, “It is.”  
Eidra knelt before Brenna and held out her hand, “My name is Eidra, what is yours?”  
Brenna looked to Helgi who gave her a nod. Finally she took Eidra's hand and shook it.   
“Brenna.” the child backed towards Helgi a little, “My mama's name was Eidra.”  
Eidra smiled, patted her hand, “I rather like your name Brenna. Perhaps we might be friends someday?”  
Brenna shrugged and Eidra laughed as Helgi glanced at Loki who stood watching them.  
“Milord, what will you do now?”  
Loki looked to her as if in a trance, “I have a letter I wish you to deliver to the Allfather. Come outside where we may talk in private.”  
She stood to follow Loki and Brenna was immediately at her side. Helgi saw Eidra's crestfallen look and her heart fairly broke.   
“Brenna, stay inside and make friends with Eidra. I shall be right back.”   
Brenna gazed up at Helgi then at Loki, “Yes Ma'am.”, and she sat back down on the floor, her hands reaching for the smooth reassurance of the stones. As the door closed, Helgi saw Brenna pick up one of the stones, a piece of purple amethyst and hand it to Eidra. “Would you like to play with me?”

 

Helgi read and re-read the letter, “Milord, you would give up your title?”  
Loki took the letter from her and refolded it, “For Eidra I would give up everything.”  
“What will you do then?”  
“I have some coin to start out with. We will build a home here in Rialo and farm the land as Eidra has learned to do in her time apart from me. She knits and sews, we will earn our living.”  
Helgi could not help a smile coming over her though she knew it was impertinent.   
“Farming is hard work, Milord.”  
“I have learned this but also have I learned that there will never be a place for Eidra in the palace as my wife. Therefore it only stands to reason we must make our home elsewhere. Our family would not be complete, however, without you and Brenna. Come stay with us and help Eidra, please?”  
Helgi leaned back against the outer wall of the cottage, her hand on her heart, “Leave the palace?”  
“Yes, you could help Eidra and we would have our daughter with us. I would not want to separate you from her but I beg you please let us have the chance to know Brenna.”  
Helgi glanced up and down the road of the village, a man on a horse trotted past and nodded to her. A couple of children played across the street, she recognized them as Silvan and Moran, two little boys Brenna would play with when she came here to visit.   
“Surely you will tell Brenna you are her parents, will you not, Milord?  
Loki glanced at the closed door, “When she is older yes but she is too young to ken why we could not be with her until now. That is why we so desperately need your help, your guidance.”  
“But leave the palace? Milord, I do not know...”  
“You love Eidra and Brenna. Is this not reason enough?”  
Helgi looked up at him, “What of you? I recall days black as pitch, filled with hatred for the monster you became. Have you truly changed?”  
He studied his hands for a moment, “More than you know. Would the Loki you remember have given up any chance for the throne?”  
She snorted with laughter, “Not for anything...” She crooked her thumb at the cottage wall, “Save that.”   
She threw her hands atop her head, “Milord, let me deliver the letter and give me time to think. You will have Brenna, this is for certain, but I am old and all I have known is there in the palace.”  
Loki took her hands in his, “Eidra and Brenna need you. I need you. I wish to make your old age a comfortable one secure among people who love you. Do you think when you have outlived your usefulness, the palace will care for you?”  
Helgi felt the desperate clutch of his hands and she squeezed back, “I promise you I will think long and hard on it. Now let us go inside and get warm again.”

When they re-entered the cottage, the scene that befell her eyes, Helgi would say in later years, was the deciding factor in her decision. Ren sat sewing in one chair, Eidra in the rocking chair cradling Brenna in her lap, her lips against Brenna's hair as they looked at the stones from the box in the firelight, holding them up and talking quietly about them. Brenna heard the door shut and turned to Helgi, “I am showing Eidra my stones.”  
“I see, love.” Helgi walked over and patted her head, catching Eidra's eye and smiling at her. “We will stay here tonight and then return to the palace in the morning,” she nodded at Loki, “and then we shall see what happens from there.”


	22. 22

That evening when the whole household had retired, Brenna asleep beside Ren, Loki sprawled out on the bed in the spare bedroom, Eidra and Helgi had sat up by the fireplace as Eidra told her about Sally, Chris, Tir Na Nog, her five seasons on the island unaware of her past. Helgi held her hand as she cried for the time lost with Brenna. Helgi reassured her she would make up for it from now on, walked her to her bedroom, kissed her on the forehead and joined Ren in her bed, cuddling up behind Brenna, finally falling into a restless sleep, her hand at Brenna's back.

The next morning when Helgi and Brenna set off for Asgard, Eidra had tried to maintain her composure until Loki lifted Brenna up to place her on the horse before Helgi. When Helgi had bid them goodbye, entreating Brenna to wave as well, Eidra had turned her face to Loki's chest. Helgi could see her back shaking as she hid her tears against his tunic and she had quickly broken the horse into a trot.

They had gone a little ways up the road from Rialo when Helgi ventured to talk to Brenna. “Did you have a nice visit with Ren?”  
Brenna nodded.  
“And how did you like your new friends?”  
“I liked Eidra. She played with me.”  
“What about Loki?”  
She shrugged.  
“Come now, Brenna.”  
Brenna pressed herself against Helgi, “He frightens me.”  
Helgi hugged her with one arm, the other hand on the reins, “Because you do not know him. Give him time.”  
“When will we go back to Ren's house?”  
Helgi leaned over her and looked into her face, “Perhaps soon, why?”  
“Because I love Ren, and I want to play with Eidra again.”  
Helgi smiled, “Eidra is a nice lady, is she not?”  
Brenna nodded again, “And she is pretty.”  
“Like you,” Helgi kissed the back of her head., “Just like you.”

 

Silas stood at attention in the Throne room. He would often watch Thor tend to the Allfather as he sat on the throne atop the dais, setting his feet on a short hassock, refilling his chalice with wine while he sat in the smaller chair beside him and listened to him tell of long ago glories, past triumphs. This on a normal day. However today had turned out to be anything but.   
When Thor had returned from his travels two evenings prior, he had dismissed the guards and attendants. Silas stood outside the door listening to him argue with Odin for the better part of the morning. Though he could not make out the words, the shouting was clear as day. He had thrown the doors wide on his exit barely missing Silas and Vanir who stepped aside, letting the doors bang against the marble walls.  
Now Silas watched Helgi approach the steps to the dais while Thor and Odin stared down on her. When she had requested an audience with the King, Silas had been happy to see her, so rarely did he now venture to the staff kitchens. Helgi had entered the Throne room, giving him a slight nod as she passed. At the bottom of the steps, she bowed low to Thor and Odin.   
“Your Majesty, I have a letter of correspondence for you.”  
Odin waved his hand for her to approach him and she climbed the steps to the dais, Thor meeting her halfway and taking the letter from her.  
She stood there, waiting to be dismissed, preferring to be far away when Thor read the letter but it was not to be as he unfolded it before her and started to read it to himself. She thought it quite rude; the letter had been meant for Odin. Thor's ruddy face became redder with each sentence, folding in on itself as he began to bare his teeth in a snarl until suddenly he whirled on her, “Where did you get this letter, crone?”  
She had thought up a lie before she reached the throne room and she employed it now, “A courier boy delivered it to me in the kitchen, he said he did not know where to go.”  
“Where was he from?” Thor roared.  
“I did not ask, Milord.”  
Thor made another step towards her but Odin's sharp voice brought him up short.   
“Bring the letter to me!”  
“He cannot do this, Father!” Thor cried as Odin began to read.  
Thor's hand slapped his open palm as Helgi ventured a glance over at Silas.   
“He cannot renounce his title!”  
Odin held up a trembling hand, “Quiet, boy. Let me read.”  
Thor started to pace the dais, his cloak swirling around his legs, anger in his eyes, his face clouded by something far deeper, anguish.  
Odin at last folded the letter and looked at it as if it were a foreign object.  
“You see, Father, you see now? He has worked some dark magic to bring that wench back from the dead, and now she compels him to leave the bosom of his family for the life of a peasant! It is deplorable. I must find where he hides, he has no right to do this.”  
Odin laid his hands in his lap, “In fact, he has every right.”  
Thor stopped so quickly he nearly tripped over his cloak, “What say you?”  
Odin stood from the throne, his hands shaking with the effort made to push him upright, “It is his right to give up his title just as it would be yours,” Odin's eyes grew misty, “Perhaps he has found that there is something far greater than the power to rule the kingdom.”  
Thor sneered, “What greater power would outshine the right to claim the throne and be king, what higher power is there?”  
Odin glanced at Frigga's smaller throne beside his own, “Love, my son.”  
“Baahhh!” Thor spat, “Corporeal, fleeting is love, only to be replaced with churlishness, boredom, ennui. Better to rescue him early from it.”  
“You would expect him to beat a hasty return? He causes no trouble any longer. He has served his time. You would bring him here to a life of sullen remorse, loneliness, perhaps to backslide once again to rage and madness. So long as he remains quiet and content, I see no reason why we should force title upon him.”  
“I will find him!” Thor started down the steps towards Helgi who instinctively retreated a few steps, “Make him see reason.”  
Gungnir rang throughout the hall as Odin banged the staff hard on the marble floor. “You shall do no such thing!” he roared, “You have pestered your brother endlessly. You claim you do it out of love yet all I see is jealousy, a childish need to control. I forbid you to seek him out. If it is his destiny to return to the palace Asgard, he shall do so!”  
“You are wrong, father!” Thor cried, turning back to him, “Love is foremost on my mind. He has made so many wrong decisions. I beg you please let me try to convince him of the error of his ways, it....”  
“NO!, the matter is closed and my decision is final. Do not risk my wrath with your disobedience.” Odin sat back so abruptly into the throne that Thor was halfway up the steps, expecting him to topple over. “I grow weary, walk with me to my chambers. You will hold audience today, my strength is all but used up.”  
Silas and Helgi cast glances at each other yet again as they watched Thor struggle with himself for a long moment then continue up the steps to take Odin's arm, “Yes father.”

 

Silas trotted up to Helgi as she shuffled down the corridor towards the staff kitchens. Helgi looked up at him as he took her arm.  
“Is it true?”  
Helgi regarded him curiously, “Is what true? Has Loki renounced his title? Yes.”  
“No, is it true that Eidra lives yet again?”  
Helgi smiled then, “It is true, my boy. I know not how. Such power is lost on me, but she lives.”  
Silas fetched breath hard, “Where? Where is she?”  
“She and Loki are at the home of Ren, the weaver in the village of Rialo.”  
He nodded, looked to the throne room, then back at Helgi. “Thank you.”  
She patted his hand, “Thank Loki.”

 

Ingrid held Gunnar in her arms as he suckled at her breast, her whole body a-quiver, “You ask me to travel to see a spirit? Silas, what has possessed you?”  
Silas knelt before Ingrid, “I do no such thing, Eidra is alive. Helgi told me. I trust her implicitly. Please come with me to Rialo.”  
Ingrid stroked Gunnar's soft hair, “I would follow you to Hel and back, Silas,” she closed her eyes, felt Silas's strong hand at her cheek. “Very well, when?”  
“On the morrow.”

 

Helgi looked about the room she'd occupied for the last forty seasons of her life. She had lived nowhere else since she was but ten. Now she stood looking at the two packs at her feet. One containing all her worldly possessions, the other Brenna's. Brenna sat on her cot, looking about the room with red swollen eyes as Helgi sat down beside her.   
“Come child, it was time old Helgi retired and what better place to do so than in Rialo with Ren? You can play with Sylvan and Moran every day and we shall make our home there.”  
Brenna sniffed, nodded. “I will miss Artra and Volsa...and the palace.”  
Helgi sighed, “It is for the best. Here, you may only ever be a servant. Out in the world, you may be a weaver like Ren, or a potter like Maolo here in the palace, maybe even a midwife or a seamstress.”  
Brenna looked up at Helgi, “Or a physician like Clotho, maybe a mage?”  
Helgi hugged her tightly, “Let us not get ahead of ourselves. Are you ready to go?”  
Brenna nodded, looked about the room and nodded again. “I am.”  
Helgi shouldered both packs and jerked her head in the direction of the door, “Then 'tis off to the stables.”

Silas started as Helgi tapped him on the shoulder. Ingrid, already upon her horse with Gunnar in a sling, giggled at him.   
“I wondered if I would find you ready to travel today. Might as well ride with us.”  
Silas helped Helgi onto the horse and lifted Brenna to her, “I must see for myself. Would you not do the same?”  
Helgi patted his head, amazed at how tall he'd grown. “I would. If we set out now, we should make Rialo by midday.”

 

Eidra was pouring tea for herself and Ren. Loki had gone to the woodshed to gather more firewood when they heard the clip clop of hoofbeats in the dooryard. Ren jumped up, opening the door to see Helgi and Brenna smiling at them. Eidra appeared in the doorway, passing around Ren to reach Helgi and Brenna, halting her forward motion when she noticed a tall man in the dress of a royal guard ride up behind them. She stepped back, ready to run should he approach her until he smiled and dismounted the horse.  
“Silas?” Eidra whispered, “SILAS?!”  
She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek, “Oh Silas, the gods wept! I thought I would never see you again. Look how you have grown.”  
Silas could not keep the tears from his eyes as he broke the embrace and took her hands in his, “I wish you to meet my wife, Ingrid.”   
She looked to the horse behind him to see a lovely red-headed woman holding a baby in her arms.  
“And my son, Gunnar.”  
Silas took the baby from Ingrid as she dismounted, curtsied to Eidra, “Milady.”  
Eidra took Ingrid by the shoulders and kissed her on each cheek, “I am far from a lady. I remember you as a young girl.”  
When Loki rounded the corner of the cottage to see them all standing there, he dropped the firewood to the ground.   
“Loki, come, Silas and his family are here.”  
As Loki approached, Ingrid shrank back, bowing deeply, “Milord,”  
Loki took her hand and bussed it lightly, “Milady, Ingrid is it?”  
“Yes, Milord.”  
He turned to Silas who still held Gunnar at his hip, “And this is the new baby, a son?”  
“Yes, Sire. His name is Gunnar.” The baby kicked happily at the sound of his name.  
He patted Silas's shoulder heartily and turned to Helgi, “This is welcome home I do hope?”  
“Indeed, Milord, now to the building of such a thing.”  
Loki smiled down at Brenna who hesitated, slowly returning the smile as he threw his arms wide to herd them all into the cottage, “I shall deliver upon that in short time, for now, let us get inside out of the cold.”  
As the party filed into the cottage, Loki halted Eidra, catching her mouth in a kiss that sent her hips against his, “Now our life begins, together.”  
Eidra grinned against his lips, locked eyes with him, “Forever.”

 

 

END


End file.
